


DESTINY CAN EAT MY ENTIRE ASS.

by HappiKatt, Possk



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Baby dirk, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Humanstuck, M/M, Sexual Humor, but lots of references to it and also dick jokes, like no sex scenes, other characters too - Freeform, sad backstories but mostly laughs, this is gonna be hilarious, well ok hes actually three but hes baby, yes at the same time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 12:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11623605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappiKatt/pseuds/HappiKatt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Possk/pseuds/Possk
Summary: Look. Destiny can say whatever it wants, but the day Dave Strider and Karkat Vantas admit that they're destined for each other is the day hell freezes over. Because honestly, fuck that guy.





	1. Chapter 1

 

“I don’t like this.”

Amidst the hustle and bustle of an early morning city, one would think a grouchy man’s grouchier grumblings would be lost to the ceaseless noise of strangers scrambling every which way. For the average person, there’s no doubt it would have. After all, such scrambles neared deafening proportions when the masses’ shoes clapped against the sidewalk in raucous cacophony. Passing cars further honked and whirred across the street, desperate in their need to reach work and other obligations on time.

Luckily, neither he nor his companion were anything remotely ‘ordinary’ in this regard. Jade Harley had always borne gifted hearing, able to track the ruffled feathers of pigeons preening atop the tree branches several yards above with ease. As for Karkat Vantas, his oft-used vocal cords were well versed in the art of—well. Screaming. So much so that even his whispers now resembled a rather hoarse bark, nevermind any soft murmur. When paired together, their exceptionally mundane talents allowed for the continuation of one of Karkat’s favorite pastimes: complaining. Specifically, complaining about the one and only Dave Strider, who was a goddamned dirty dirtbag if Karkat had ever seen one and absolutely no one could convince him otherwise.

See, the fact of the matter was quite simple: he did not like this, at all. Not one bit. And as they made their way down the street, he vowed to make his best friend aware of this information by any means necessary, even if that meant straight up engraving it into her auditory cortex. As it was, Jade’s right ear twitched as she caught wind of his grumbles. Rolling her eyes, she decided to humor him, recognizing they had at least another ten minutes before reaching the park.

“Karkat, that’s literally the 15th time you’ve said that since we left your apartment,” she said. With a mischievous grin, she dug her fingers into the brown mop he so graciously called hair. For her trouble, she earned an indignant squawk, to which her buck-toothed smile only widened. “I was beginning to think you were excited about meeting him!”

“Don’t insult me, Harley!” he barked, throwing his hands up to prevent further mussing. “I’m telling you, he’s a raging douchebag with all the geniality of a constipated blob fish. I know you care about him, but even you have to admit he’s nothing short of a tool.”

“Well maybe if  _ you _ weren’t being such a raging fuckass, you’d see there’s a lot more to him!” She paused. “I mean…okay, he’s definitely questionable in his fashion sense. But who wouldn’t want to wear pajamas all day? And he works really hard too!”

“He doesn’t look like he’s worked a day in his life. And Jade,” Karkat moaned, palming his face in exasperation, “of  _ all _ the insults you’ve had time to pick up from me, why did it have to be ‘fuckass?’ My vocabulary’s like a goddamn Christmas extravaganza in its profanity spewing lexicon, and yet you chose the laziest, most asinine term possible!”

“It’s simple, but effective,” Jade said, tapping a finger to her cheek. “And it gets your undies in a twist whenever I say it, so that’s always a plus.”

“Fuck you too, Jade. But I digress. Moving on from one  _ thrilling  _ inanity to the next: all offense intended, if he tries to pull anything funny, I will literally chop off his dick and shove it down his throat in a steamy column of hot ‘fuck you’ and hope he chokes to death on his own ball sack.”

“Ew, Karkat. See, this is why I stick to fuckass, every other word out of your mouth is an obscenity in its own right.”

“I’m serious!” Karkat said, waving his arms with gusto. “You’ve seen the movies, you  _ know _ how people manipulate others into believing they’re soulmates. Act all disgustingly romantic online, but whoopsie daisy! Turns out it’s all a big fat lie and once you meet face to face, they rope you into believing that it’s just  _ accidental  _ your marks aren’t reacting. That ‘fate’ or whatever bullshit actor responsible for these stupid things intends for you to be together, and that this is all just some mistake or misunderstanding. Next thing you know, you’re left with an aging man-child ball and chain living off scraps in their mother’s basement.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dave couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to,” she said. She stuck out her tongue for good measure, which Karkat responded to in kind. “I’d know, he’s whined more than once about how I need to come down here and kill the spiders in his attic because he’s too chicken to roll up a newspaper. Besides, you of all people shouldn’t take fiction to heart! With how many soap operas you watch, you must know how silly those plotlines get! Like, what was that Adam Sandlers flick agai—?”

“Ding ding ding! Oh, do you know what that was? That’s my bullshit meter hitting maximum capacity. Any further mentions of such will cause it to overload and no one, not even Dave ‘I am a living pigsty’ Strider, wants to deal with its sentient diarrhea infested waters. Cinema, especially that of the romantic variety, and  _ especially 50 First Dates,  _ is a stunning reflection of reality and I will hear nothing agai— _ Jade, stop laughing at me or I will literally shit on your bed tonight.” _

“Hey, it’s  _ your _ bed, Karkat! If you want to take a dump in it, be my guest. I’ll just take the couch and call it a day.”

“Argh! You know what I meant!”

“Fat chance! I’m lucky to understand half of what you mean at any given time, since everything else either borders on stupidity or lunacy!”

“Then that makes you half an idiot too, seeing as you befriended one!”

“Fuckass!”

“Bulge licker!”

“Jerk face!”

“Farmstink McButtlass!”

With that breaking the proverbial camel’s back, Jade broke into a series of giggles. Hiding a toothy grin behind her palm, she stopped short, instead reaching around her middle and to try and restrain the hysterical fit bubbling in her chest. Even Karkat couldn’t resist the urge to snicker, bending over and slapping his knee.

“Jeez, you’re always so much more ridiculous in person than over pesterchum,” Jade said, finally regaining her composure after a few minutes. “And that’s a feat in of itself, seeing as you’re always ridiculous!”

“What can I say, I live up to my branding,” Karkat snorted. “The ‘Total and Complete Asshole’ gig is something only yours truly can abide by 24/7, 100% of the time.”

“Aw, don’t say that Karkat! I’d say it’s only about 75% of the time, maybe 80% on bad days. I know you’re a goober deep down. Deep, deep,  _ deep _ down.”

“All my days are bad days.”

“I dunno, you seemed pretty happy that one time I bought you a crab for your birthday. Not to mention when you picked me up earlier! Admit it, you’re not  _ always _ a miserable doofus. Only mostly.”

“I am insulted by the mere implication that I would be anything but fucking  _ ecstatic _ to be in the presence of Sir Snapsworth, so excuse me as I levy a hefty ‘fuck’ and ‘you’ for your complete and utter lack of tact.”

“Me, tactless? Hah! Pot calling the kettle black there!”

“We’re  _ both _ black, Harley.”

“Well, half black, but touché. And ANYWAYS, we’re getting off topic again!” Jade clapped her hands together. The sight of the red hairband around her pinkie jolted her memory as she realized it was already half past 10, which meant they were well on-track to being late to meet Dave. Oops. “The point is that we’re fine, Dave’s fine, everybody’s fine. So stop being such a grouchy worrywart over nothing. Come on, you don’t seriously believe he’s some creepy stalker, do you?”

“Well…no,” Karkat mumbled, absentmindedly scratching his temple. “Much as I think Strider’s a feculent shit stain on the face of society, I don’t think he’s out to hurt you. Which only serves the purpose of worrying me  _ more _ since I don’t know what his intentions are.”

“Intentions? What’s that supposed to mean?” Jade repeated, cocking her head sideways. Instead of answering, Karkat dug his fists deep into his sweater, discomfort spreading across his face as the seconds ticked by. Evidently, he waited too long to respond. With a frown, Jade grabbed Karkat’s wrist. She then yanked him away in tune, leaving him to scramble to keep pace with her longer legs and superior height.

“Hey, wait!” he said, staggering. “Dammit Jade!”

“We’re going to be late as is!” she said, her grip tightening. Although her voice was light, there was a certain firmness in her tone that gave Karkat the distinct impression that she’d about had enough of his crap. He winced—it was more than apparent that her own ‘bullshit meter’ was about to spillover, all thanks to Hurricane Vantas. “Whatever you have to tell me, you can do it on the way there.”

“Fine, fine!” Karkat said, pulling at her long sleeve with his free hand. It barely ruffled her pastel blouse, much less her person, and the pace if anything only quickened. “Just let go already, I’m not a child!”

“Then don’t act like it!” With a huff, she released his wrist. He stumbled, tripping over his own two feet with the grace of a waltzing walrus, but managed to catch himself before his face became uncomfortably acquainted with sidewalk pavement.

“Christ woman, are you  _ trying _ to get me killed?” Karkat complained. Dusting off his pants with a growl, he stopped to inspect his wrist for bruising—Jade wasn’t always aware of her strength—and pulled back from the crowd. “Because such is the scenario before us. Poor old Karkat gets trampled to death by a pack of hungry rednecks on the way to the park, a classic tragedy fit for the fucking ages. But who gives a barfing fuck, what I  _ meant _ to say was—uh, Jade?”

Blinking, Karkat lifted his head and turned around. With a start, he realized that Jade had left him to eat dust and gone on ahead. Christ! He couldn’t take his eyes off her for one shit splitting second, could he? Where the _ hell _ was—wait, there! Already about a block down, Karkat could just see the very top of her chocolate brown mane bobbing in the distance. Cursing, he was quick to pad after her, dodging from stranger to stranger and knocking quite a few shoulders in the process.

“Excuse me, coming through—hey,  _ fuck _ you too, asshole!—let me in dammit, make way already!”

Finally,  _ finally _ Karkat managed to reach her when she came to a stop by a red light. Huffing and puffing, he reached her side. Immediately afterwards, he palmed his chest and lurched over, breathless from his flight.

“What…the fuck…was that for,” Karkat wheezed.

“What was what for?” Jade said, arching a brow.

“You…know for what!” Karkat said. “Leaving…me…behind, maybe?!”

“Leaving you—oh! No wonder it was so quiet. I thought the gods had finally answered my prayers and shoved a sock in your mouth!”

Gaping, Karkat peeled his eyes from the ground and looked up. Had she really not noticed his absence? But—no, he caught glimpse of a barely restrained smile plastering her face, buck teeth biting down hard on her lips to prevent its fruition.

What the flipper fondling fuck was this treachery.

At least she was no longer mad at him (right????). In any case, she was willing to give him a pass and ignore the aforementioned tangent.

“You whimsical ass whiffing sparkleberry,” Karkat said accusingly. No longer able to restrain herself, Jade’s mouth split into a shit eating grin as the light flashed green.

“Takes one to know one,” she said, continuing on as if nothing had ever happened.

With that, their conversation dipped back into the comfortable banter he had grown so familiar with over the years. Drifting between bouts of teasing and snickering at one another’s expense, it was a relaxing rhythm that at least partially relieved some of Karkat’s nerves. He was still on edge, worried about whatever bullshit Dave might try to pull once they arrived at the park, but. He was on thin ice with Jade as it was. Better to play it cool and not make a fuss.

But of course, Karkat was anything but cool, and just had to make an ass of himself yet  _ again _ once the opportunity presented itself.

“Um, still.” Jade chewed her lip, eyes trained on anything but Karkat’s as they continued down the sidewalk. They were only a few minutes away from the front entrance now, but Karkat had yet to catch sight of Douchelord McBuzzkill through the webbed fence. Miracles were indeed possible. “I’m not sure how I feel about this either, honestly.”

“Sure about what? The fact that rom-coms are objectively better than any other form of media? Because you damn well better believe it’s true, Jade. Open your eyes and face down the destiny which Gamzee’s stupid ass messiahs have wrought upon us, it’s plain as day.”

“No, not that!” Jade rolled her eyes. “Which you’re completely and utterly wrong about, by the way, but I’m going to put a pin in that for now and school you about it later. Just, I mean…well, you know. What you were saying before, about Dave and me. I’m not sure how to feel about it.”

“Wait, what?” Karkat asked, jerking his head right. “I thought you were  _ excited? _ ”

“I am!” Jade insisted. Still, Karkat could see the figurative gears winding in her head as she thought better of it, and amended, “well, I’m excited to meet him! Dave’s one of my very best friends and I’ve known him for years, it’d be impossible  _ not _ to be!”

“But?” Karkat pressed.

“Well…” She said, fidgeting. “I dunno, I—I guess I’m just not as sure as Dave is that we’re soulmates.”

“Holy shit.” Karkat blinked, eyes rounding into dinner plates. But before he could reap any proverbial feast and fill said saucers with vindictive glee, Jade cut him off, throwing her open palm to the air.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking. How ‘ _ bluh bluh bluh  _ I’m Karkat, I’m hot shit and Dave’s a jerkface,’ because he’s  _ not _ ,” she said, flexing her fingers into quotation marks. “So do me a favor this one time and  _ please _ just shut up. I don’t need you to make me feel worse about this.”

Karkat recoiled, allowing Jade to push forward without him and presumably abscond from the drudgery that was his rampaging histrionics.

The accusation stung, all the more because it was true. Like he hadn’t thought up a dozen scenarios as soon as the words left her mouth where he crowed over Dave’s loss, eating up the fact that hey, Jade Harley just isn’t that into you, dude! Sucks to suck! Except the only one sucking was him, upsetting his best friend with egregious word vomit and abject resentment. Dave may be an asshole, but Karkat was the ruling champion. And he was only rubbing it in Jade’s face.

He’d later claim past Karkat’s brain short-circuited, fried under the sweltering heat that constituted Houston’s climate, but without warning his hand shot from his side and latched onto her wrist.

“Wait, shit I’m sorry,” Karkat said. Jade paused, turning toward him. He worried his lip, but pressed forward nonetheless. “I-I know I’m being an ostentatious ass blister about this, secreting bullshit all over you like the sloshing diarrhea of a failing sphincter. You don’t deserve that. And—and you can tell me to fuck off, or to shove sickles up my ass, or give me whatever similarly warranted insult if you want to go on ahead. But.” His grip on her arm softened. “I don’t. Want you to think you can’t tell me things. I’m sorry.”

Jade cocked her head, staring with such enrapt intensity that Karkat began to squirm. But instead of answering verbally, his answer came in the form of a small smile and a ruffle of hair. 

And, okay, maybe it’s best to let go of her now. He tugged his fingers free and pulled back, a rosy tinge dusting his cheeks.

“W-what?” He demanded.

“Nothing,” Jade said, buck teeth peeking over her bottom lip. “Just…you’re a little ridiculous, you know that?”

“ _ What?! _ ” Karkat squawked.

“Not like that!” Jade said. “Well…okay, no, you  _ are _ like that, but I mean that you always seem to think things are a lot worse than they really are. I’m not going to abandon you all because you pissed me off one time—if that were the case, I would’ve told you to stuff it a long time ago!”

“So…you’re not mad then?” Karkat asked, hesitant.

“Bluh, I wasn’t even mad. More like…annoyed. Just,” Jade sighed, carding her fingers through her hair. “Karkat, I don’t need a knight to lord over my decisions. You know that, right?”

Again, Karkat winced, guilt writhing in his gut. He’d known for ages how much she hated to be controlled, hated to have her independence infringed upon, yet what did he do the second he got the chance? Act like a controlling asshole.

Past Karkat’s a real fucking douchebag, and his present self’s not much better.

“I—yeah. I know, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not…trying to stop you from living your life or anything. I know it’s none of my damn business and if Dave’s the one for you, then so be it. I just…want you to be okay, alright?” Karkat exhaled. “I really,  _ really _ don’t trust him.”

“Like I hadn’t already figured that out,” Jade said with a roll of her eyes. “I know you’re just looking out for me. But like I said, I can handle myself. I don’t need anyone to boss me around—no matter how good you are at it!”

“No shit,” Karkat said, snorting. “As stubborn as you Harleys are”—“ _ Hey!!! _ ”—“you’re the most capable person I’ve ever met in my life.” He paused. “But—and if I’m prying, you’ve every right to tell me to fuck right off into the next galaxy, alright?—can I ask what’s on your mind about Dave? Not that he wasn’t transparent as all hell about his feelings for you, it was downright embarrassing to watch him slobber all over the screen at times, but. I thought you, uh, liked him back.”

“I  _ do _ like him, just…maybe not the way he likes me,” Jade admitted, readjusting the round glasses atop her nose. Karkat had long since noticed that habit bordered on being a nervous tick, what with how often she’d play with those things both in person and over Skype calls. “I’ve known he’s liked me for ages now. Like—even though you were being a jerk just now, he  _ was _ pretty blatant about it. And since I’ve been in the states for my dig, he wound up the courage to ask and. Now we’re here. Except I’m not even sure I  _ like _ -like him so. Where does that leave us? I mean, if we are soulmates, I’ll play along and give it a shot because hey! It’s not like you meet your one and only every day! But…argh, this is so frustrating!”

As she neared her tangent’s end, Jade’s breathing became more erratic, rushing each word like it was her last. Her fingers became entangled in her hair, grabbing angles every which way, and Karkat could only look on concerned. Once finished, she relieved her curls from their fleshy prison, and placed her freed hands on her chest with a wheeze.

“Jeez,” she said. “I’m starting to get like you.”

“That’s what you get when you hang around a self-righteous jackass for so long,” Karkat said, almost automatic in his banter. He then grimaced, because holy hell now was not the time. 

“But…fuck, I’m sorry you’re so worried about this, Jade. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s alright,” she sighed, peeling away stray hairs from her face. “I guess I don’t know what to do.”

Karkat studied her. Bags enough to rival his own clung to her eyes, almost purple against her dark complexion. He’d assumed they were due to the stress of working long hours on site, fiddling around with tools he couldn’t even name, much less comprehend, but maybe her recent lack of sleep had a little less to do with rocks and a little more to do with this so-called ‘vacation.’ Dammit, why did Strider have to ruin  _ everything _ he touched? Or, hadn’t touched, in this case. Whatever!

His gaze softened.

“At the risk of sounding like an even greater scumbag than usual,” Karkat said slowly, “even though I’m actually being 100% fucking sincere for once in my miserable life: we can always turn back if you want to.” Before Jade could open her mouth in protest, he pressed on, determined to make his point. “You owe nobody jack shit, Jade. Not me, not Dave. Not anyone. If this crap’s really getting to you, we can call it a day right here, right now.”

Jade’s lips formed a small ‘o’ of surprise, eyes widening in turn. Feeling heat bloom across his cheeks yet again, Karkat turned away to face the fence. They’d arrived at the park entrance, where Dave was most assuredly waiting somewhere inside. Ugh.

“You’re a good guy, you know that, Karkat?” Jade said, resting her hand atop his shoulder. “You’re just an emotional goofball in a sweater vest.”

“Lies and fucking slander,” Karkat grumbled, shrugging her off in turn.

“Admit it!”

“I admit damn well nothing,” Karkat said, wringing his hands. “Obviously, the lobotomy hobbits are at it again, loosening up the last of the screws tying your feeble mind to this plane of existence. They eschew factual reality like it’s a well-used condom nobody wants to touch, and dammit Jade, I refuse to enable this kind of blasphemous desecration of my good name.”

“You know who’s also a good guy, Karkat?” Jade’s grin returned, steamrolling his tangent before it even had a chance to blossom. “Who puts up a cool kid front and acts like he doesn’t give a shit, but instead cares a whole loooooot?”

“If you say Dave, I swear to  _ god _ I’ll—”

“DAVE!” she sang, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward. With a yelp, Karkat stumbled after her, clinging to her fingers for dear life as she made a beeline for a strange, yet altogether too familiar red pajama-laden douchebag lounging against the fence.

“Bah!” Karkat spat, face scrunching up in disgust. 

All that Karkat had ever actually seen of the probable public menace known as Dave Strider came from a handful of deliberately shitty selfies he’d seen on Twitter (during the brief, uncommon occasions when curiosity pushed Karkat just enough to get him to unblock the asshole), and they hadn’t really given him a clear idea of just what the douchebag looked like. He’d always imagined the guy to look like just the biggest douchebag, and between the fuckin’ asshole shades, the half-assed stubble of a man just too douchey to bother with shaving today, and the fact that apparently the occasion of maybe meeting his soulmate wasn’t significant enough to him to bother with a pair of God damned  _ jeans,  _ he somehow had surpassed Karkat’s worst expectations. This guy was a fucking  _ tool.  _

So, yeah, his internet personality had provided a pretty accurate picture, then. 

Dave looked up from his phone, which he smoothly pocketed, and waved a hand as Jade and Karkat approached. 

“At least smile, douchebag, this whole meetup was your idea,” Karkat muttered to himself, just out of Dave’s earshot. He earned himself a final warning glare from Jade, who turned back to Dave with a big grin. 

“Well, howdy there, little missy,” Dave drawled with the most obnoxiously fake cowboy accent to ever come from an actual Texan, “What brings a sweet little stranger like you to this neck of the woods?” 

“ _ Uuuuuugh,”  _ Karkat groaned. 

“Yer pony’s cute, too,” Dave added on with a barely-visible smirk, his face turned directly at Karkat. The  _ motherfucker.  _

Jade rolled her eyes and giggled. “It’s good to see you too, stranger!” she said. 

“Don’t encourage him,” Karkat said. 

“Shush!” Jade barked. 

“So what brings you to this particular water hole?” Dave asked, still keeping up the obnoxious fake cowboy routine (and truly testing the outer limits of Karkat’s patience). He held out his hand. Skipping right to the chase, then. 

Jade shifted, still visibly a bit uncomfortable, her grin dropping the slightest fraction. Still, she took a deep breath, before taking Dave’s hand in her own. 

Karkat was practically holding his breath. Everyone knew what was supposed to happen now; at the first physical contact, the marks on their wrists -- an incomplete ring with a curled almost-loop on one end -- would be completed. A bright glow, a slight tinge of pain, and that would be that, if Dave was right. 

Seconds passed, and...nothing. No change. Dave’s wrist was covered by the sleeve of his jacket, but Karkat could see Jade’s, completely unchanged.

“Well,  _ fuck,”  _ Dave said, dropping his hand (and the fake cowboy accent, thank God. He still definitely had an accent, but it was at least a  _ real  _ one). Karkat bit down on the triumphant cry that sprang to his throat, but allowed himself to feel smug regardless; the way Strider’s stupid fucking face fell was a  _ treat.  _ Or, well, what Karkat could see of his stupid fucking face behind the damn sunglasses, but whatever. 

Jade, however, frowned sympathetically, before asking, “Hey, cool guy, am I allowed to hug you now, or what?” 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” said Dave. Jade grinned, and threw her arms around his neck. 

“Sorry this didn’t work out,” she said, “but, hey! It’s really good to see you!” 

“Yeah,” Dave mumbled, returning the hug in the most half-assed way possible. Karkat glared. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he said, “You pushed her into testing this soulmate shit, and you were wrong! Get the fuck over it, guilt tripping her over it isn’t gonna change anything!” 

Jade slipped out of the hug and threw her own warning glare at Karkat, but Dave beat her to responding. 

“Okay, first of all, your input means jack shit in this exchange, so back the fuck off, maybe. But also, fuck you, I’m allowed to be goddamn disappointed,” said Dave. 

“Ugh,  _ guys,”  _ Jade groaned. “This is supposed to be a happy thing! We’re meeting in person for the first time, that’s so cool! Can you two maybe not fight this one time?” Turning toward Karkat, she hissed, “We literally just finished talking about this!”  

“We sure fucking did, Harley,” said Karkat, “and I’m not letting him bully you into anything --” 

“Bully?” Dave said. “What the fuck, I’m not trying to bully her into anything! I’m not gonna beat her up and take her fucking lunch money over not being my fucking soulmate. Whatever crawled up your ass and died must be startin’ to decompose, because I can smell your shitty attempts at making me the bad guy from all the way over here!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jade groaned. 

“Attempt nothing, I am fully fucking succeeding in calling out your fecal-encrusted attitude, you spineless, obnoxious, scraggly excuse for a pile of garbage vaguely shaped like a human being!” 

“At least I’m shaped like a human, then. You look like something my neighbor’s dog coughed up.”

“And now it’s just insults and name-calling. Okay. Dunno why I thought you two could maybe behave for once,” Jade said. 

“That thing’s got a fuckin’ stomach disorder or something, too,” Dave continued, apparently not noticing Jade’s comment. “So we’re talkin just the grossest, weirdest, grayish, sludgey puke you can fuckin’ imagine, complete with hairs and grass and chunks of God knows what all sittin’ on your driveway every morning come eight am, like clockwork. That’s you.”

“Why are you like this,” Karkat said, unable to keep the disgust off his face. “Why do you constantly feel the need to just latch onto the most unnecessarily vulgar comparison you can find, and somehow make it grosser? Wait, no, I know, it’s because you are the universe’s biggest, most vile, most absolutely disgusting asshole, so of course everything to come out of that gaping orifice you dare to call a mouth is complete and utter  _ shit!”  _ Karkat was really shouting now, balling his hands into fists. “And if you think I’m just gonna stand by and let you spew your brain’s verbal diarrhea all over my really good fucking friend, you’re in for the biggest fucking kicking you’ve ever had, you literal goddamn asshole!!” 

“What, you wanna fight? Please, I’ve taken shits bigger than you, what do you think you’re gonna do to me, huh?” Dave said, spreading his arms wide. 

Karkat felt his last bit of patience snap. Fuck Strider, fuck his goddamn pajamas and his stupid shades and his stupid face. With an honest to god  _ growl,  _ Karkat shoved the douchebag, achieving nothing but getting the asshole to stagger back a few paces (and injuring his own wrist in the process, but he ignored the brief sting to keep scowling). 

 

  


 

“If it’s a fight you want, you giant insufferable hipster prick, you sure as fuck got one! I’ll give you the thrashing of your pointless God damned life, just you -- what the fuck are you doing?” Karkat yelled. Dave had been shaking his hand slightly as Karkat spoke. He’d pulled down his sleeve slightly and was staring at his wrist, not even reacting to anything Karkat said. Jade was glancing between the two of them, concern and confusion on her face. 

“What the fuck,” Dave said softly. 

Several crudely drawn dots connected in order to light up the world’s shittiest, ugliest lightbulb in Karkat’s head. 

Oh.

Oh,  _ fuck  _ no. 

“No,” Karkat said out loud, and then louder, for added emphasis, “No!” In a brief panic, he checked his own wrist, and, yup, there it was, one completed fucking soul mark. Jade’s face was slowly breaking into a smile, and Strider was still staring, dumbstruck, at his own mark. 

“Fuck this, no!!” Karkat said, gesturing wildly. “What kind of fucking  _ bullshit  _ is -- no fucking way! This isn’t just bullshit, this is a fucking  _ avalanche  _ of turds straight from the world’s most incontinent steer after a misguided visit to fucking Taco Bell. This is an absolute travesty of romance to put fucking  _ Twilight  _ to shame, crying with its complete and total humiliation as it sits alone in a closet shovelling ice cream into its mouth, this is -- this is!!” Karkat was pacing away, now, waving his arms and shouting at the top of his lungs. People were really starting to stare, now; someone stopped playing frisbee with their dog to pull out their phone and record the incident. Karkat couldn’t bring himself to care. People wanted to enjoy his fucking fury? Sure, whatever. Have fun, assholes. 

Jade, unfortunately, seemed to be one of those assholes. She’d turned away and was visibly (and audibly) trying and failing to stifle her snorting giggles. Karkat continued screeching and ranting as Dave dropped his arm and ran his other hand through his hair. 

“What the fuck,” Dave said, again. “How in the fuck does…” With a groan, he threw back his head and glared up at the sky. “Hope you’re having a fucking laugh up there,” he yelled, “because this shit’s so far from funny it’s...Can’t even come up with a good fuckin’ metaphor, I’m too mad, fuckin. Jade, come on, you’re not helping here.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jade wheezed out between giggles, “I just -- that’s so perfect, oh my  _ god!”  _ She helplessly lapsed back into laughter, as Dave buried his face in his hands. 

“Fuck everything,” he snapped, just as Karkat ended his rant with a furious “Fuck this!!” It was at this point that Jade fell backwards hard onto her butt, clutching her stomach and howling with laughter, all pretense of hiding her merriment abandoned. 

“Dammit, Harley, this isn’t funny!” Karkat shouted. 

“I think,” Jade gasped, “I think that’s the first thing, haha, the first thing I’ve ever seen you two actually agree on!” She snorted at that, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “The one time you two aren’t at each other’s throats, and it’s this?!” Another burst of laughter, and then, “ _ I guess you two really are meant for each other hehehehehahahahaha!! _ ” 

Karkat and Dave both snapped their heads to look at each other, with twin expressions of horror and disgust. 

“Uh, how about fuck no?” Dave said. “This is a fucking joke is what it is. I’m not destined to hook up with the fucking angry hobbit here, there’s literally no fucking way.” 

“Yeah, I’m -- hobbit? Really? You’re gonna bring my fucking height into this  _ again _ , Captain Beanpole?” 

“I sure the fuck am. You must be at least this tall to ride the rides, asshole.” 

“Have fun banging your head on the doorframes while I’m kicking your goddamn shins, you giant fuck --” 

Jade was snorting and wheezing again, and it was really fucking distracting. “You guys even sound like an old married couple, oh my god how did we not see this?” she said. 

“Because there’s nothing to see!” Dave shouted. “This is horseshit! There’s literally no fucking way we’re goddamn soulmates!” 

“I’ve seen shitty romcoms with more believable pairs than us,” said Karkat. “I will prostrate myself naked before the fucking god of sandpaper as a ritual sacrifice before I concede to this.  I would rather let them flay every scrap of skin from my body in horrible painful agonizing grinding than even consider the  _ possibility  _ that this is happening. There is not a single timeline of any fucking reality where I will accept that we’re ever going to be a fucking couple, do you understand me, Strider?”

“Not….really that first part, no, but whatever, sign me up for the fucking sandpaper orgy or whatever, too, I guess. Fuck this. I gotta...I’m sorry, Jade, we can hang later, I gotta get back home. Can’t deal with this now.” Dave was visibly agitated, shifting his weight back and forth as he spoke. Coward was looking for an excuse to get away, probably, but Karkat, for once, couldn’t bring himself to call it out. The sooner they all got out of here, the better. This whole fiasco was fucking  _ humiliating.  _

Jade managed to choke out a goodbye between her gasping cackles, while Karkat turned to glaring out at the embarrassingly large number of onlookers. 

“Move the fuck on, show’s over,” he snapped. “There’s nothing else to see. Go melt your brains watching some other fucker’s misfortune, you greedy vultures. Come on, Jade, stop laughing already and let’s get out of here.” 

* * *

 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> katt: the full karkat rant by possk is amazing and on his twitter, and eventually there will be a link to an image with the whole thing posted right around here but for now it can be found on twitter at [@carcinocat](https://twitter.com/carcinocat)
> 
> dave is at [@turntechgh](https://twitter.com/turntechgh)
> 
> both will also probs have some misc stuff there that wont be shown directly in this fic but there'll be snippets of how theyre doin in every chapter
> 
> Possk: Yes hello hi I'm glad Katt invited me to collab with 'em on this because this has been a helluva lotta fun writing. I'm a sucker for Jade-Karkat friendship too so I went to town as soon as I had the chance to play with their dynamic. Karmic justice was served in Jade's favor btw like goddamn boys y'all need to take fifteen chill pills and hop off your high horses, Jade don't need your shit nuh-uh no way no how.
> 
> Also: [Karkat's a grumpy pants who needs to stop pooping his diaper and get the fuck over himself already.](https://68.media.tumblr.com/92305b3617c2805d713755e9c5f92270/tumblr_otqfzoac8i1qlh2voo1_1280.png)


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 

Well, this was it.

The shit stopper. The constipation of amorous ventures everywhere.

A bowel blockage in his life from which nothing of value could possibly be removed.

This could  _ not _ be happening. But happening it was, if the dull throbbing in his wrist was anything to go by. Fate sure had a shitty sense of humor, one Dave was becoming more and more acquainted with as time went on.

The thoughts droned on and on in Dave’s head as he padded away from the scene, steadfastly ignoring the growing attention Karkat’s screeches wrought. The raving lunatic would probably attract the authorities with all that assclownery, and god knows Dave was not in the mood to deal with whatever first responders—well,  _ responded _ . How Jade put up with him, he had no idea.

Ah, Jade. Dammit. What a Mongolian clusterfuck  _ that _ had turned out to be.

In one fell swoop, Lady Destiny had not only pulled the rug out from under him, but further rolled his sorry ass into a carpet burrito and kicked it down a mineshaft. Dave had long ago thought he’d reached the end of his rope, but oh ho ho, that’d be too  _ easy _ . It was well apparent nosy neighbors, academic services, executive employers, and even fate itself were all conspiring to absolutely  _ fuck _ his asshole raw like a dagger encrusted dildo reaching maximum titillation. And there was jack shit he could do about it.

Rock bottom would never be deep enough. Goddammit.

Curious onlookers watched as he passed through the grassy knoll, peering up from their phones with interest and whispering less than discreet mutters. A few even popped a question or two as he walked by. But nope, fuck that. Fuck them. He was not up for talking about this any time soon. Or ever. Probably never. Least of all with random ass strangers getting their kicks from his misfortune.

“Hey, Janice,” Dave muttered to no one in particular, hunching his shoulders forward to make himself smaller, “this ain’t no circus and I ain’t Jojo the clown, so like. Avert your eyes and mind your own damn business for once. Nothing to see here except a guy in pajamas and some sick ass shades, which—okay, is pretty irresistible in of itself, but still. Have some fucking manners, Janice. You’re shaming the southern gentry, straight up pissing on their racist graves with bowels the size of watermelons. It’s like Sherman’s set Georgia ablaze again and your swollen kidneys are the only way to put out the fire. But dammit Janice, did middle school cotillion class teach you nothing about etiquette? Jefferson Beauregard and Carol Anne Jackson didn’t raise you to be a Yankee finagler, but do you care, Janice? No, of course you don’t. Piss away into the wind for all the fucks you give, Janice, get your traitorous northern juices all up in my eyelids. But for god’s sake, turn the other cheek already and stop  _ staring _ .”

Somewhere down the line, Dave had stopped in front of a tree. A woman, one who looked very much unlike his imaginary Janice, sat atop a picnic blanket adjacent his knees, one he realized he too was now standing on. She stared up at him owlishly.

“…Are you talking to me?” not-Janice asked after a beat.

“I…uh. No, sorry,” Dave said. An awkward pause. “I’ll just…go…now.” Heat blooming across his freckled cheeks, he turned away and made for the exit.

Well, alright. That was one more park he could never risk going to again. Cheers and all that.

Stupid Karkat, stupid Janice, stupid destiny. Stupid  _ everything _ .

Grumbling under his breath, Dave dug deep and pulled out a ratty pair of earbuds from the depths of his pockets. Frayed, worn, and covered in duct tape, they weren’t much to look at, but he wasn’t about to shell out another Hamilton when one of the buds still worked. After disentangling the strings with a curse, Dave plugged them into his ear canals and drowned out the surrounding noise as he pulled out onto the sidewalk.

_ ‘Alright, think of the positives, Dave,’ _ he thought, bobbing and weaving throughout the crowd with expertise only a born and bred Houstonian could boast. ‘ _ Hop aboard the positivity train for once and reap its karmic goods. Just fire up that ole Polar Express, set a course for the North Pole, and steal life’s presents from all the good little boys and girls as you go. Knock, knock, kids, it’s CGI Tom Hanks here to collect.’ _

Just like Jade always said—or in so many words, anyways. Other than the earlier earth shattering disaster and an embarrassment worthy of the president himself, he’d say his day was going pretty okay overall. Nobody was dead, for one. He still had all ten fingers and toes, too. Always a plus. Roxy hadn’t called, so Dave could only assume things with Dirk were going well, or at least as well as things could go with Dirk when it came to sitters. The world hadn’t ended, no meteorites were waiting to pummel the planet to gooey pulp. And hey, at least it wasn’t rainin—

As if the gods had a direct line to his thoughts, thunder bellowed in the distance, shocking him from Crywank’s musical trance. Right on cue, rain began to drizzle down from above, well-ignoring how the sun was, in fact, still shining. Indeed, there was nary a cloud in the sky. And yet, as plain as day, water began to soak the crown of his head.

“…Yeah, fine. Fuck it, whatever, that’s about right,” Dave sighed, pulling the hood over his head with a tepid tug.

No Jade. No umbrella. No nothing. Only a shriveled shrimp nugget separated his ample buns from sitting on goose eggs for the day, and for once, Dave would prefer to be ass deep in yolk.  _ Anything _ than have that rocket propelled spaz maggot as his soulmate.

It took a good twenty minutes to reach his neighborhood, and unfortunately for him, the rain only picked up. Gray clouds covered the sky by the time Dave stood in front of his doorstep, and the sunshower was well on its way to being an actual storm. The house creaked and groaned, buffeted by the wind and downpour.

Overall, it was a modest sized home—not too big, not too small. A cookie cutter house befit for a cookie cutter neighborhood, the fourth red on the block and the third lawn in a row to host those tacky suburban mom flamingos Dave found just too ironic to throw out. It was perfect for four people to live comfortably enough without much fuss or hassle. Lately though, it’d felt spacious, empty even, despite how many cardboard boxes now cluttered the master bedroom and lower floor. Dave supposed it was only natural, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to walking down to the kitchen every morning and finding nothing but the day before’s dishes for company.

Ducking under the porch overhanging, Dave plucked a key from his drenched pants. After a small click, the door opened, and he crossed the threshold with haste. The floorboards squealed under his weight, no doubt protesting the water he left trailing in his wake.

“Sup y’all,” Dave said to no one in particular, for no one was actually there. “I’m home.”

It might not be Honey Nielsen material, but it was always nice to say  _ something _ when coming home for the day. Sure, nobody answered or cared besides Dirk, but it was the thought that counted.

Toeing his shoes off, Dave tossed his soaked hoodie onto the living room table. It kicked up thick layers of dust, sparking the ever present reminder that ‘hey maybe it’s about time to pull a Mary Poppins and bippity boppity boo this place up already.’ It wasn’t that he  _ liked _ living just shy of Pigs R Us, per say, but he’d had little to no time nor energy to clean up anything beyond Dirk’s immediate messes over the past few months. Meatballs splattered across the floor after a tumultuous tantrum gone awry? That was his jurisdiction, appoint him chief justice of errant toddler mayhem. But rampant dustbunnies living up to their name and breeding filth and grime all over the house at a moment’s notice? Yeah, no. He’d leave that court case up to the likes of Terezi.

He climbed the staircase and headed up to his room, which proved a far more hazardous task than any singular set of stairs outside the Tower of Babel should have called for. It was littered with plastic toys, plush animals, and—god forbid— _ duplo legos _ , of which had become Dave’s sworn enemy ever since Dirk had laid eyes on them. To get anywhere in the house nowadays, one had to play a harrowing game of ‘the floor is lava,’ a game Dave increasingly failed, much to his toes’ chagrin.

Even still, Dave made it to his desk without injury and promptly collapsed against the seat. The day’s events swam across his vision, after images gliding through his mind as if on marathon. They were damn near drowning him, and he just about needed a bathyscaphe to re-emerge from the incredible bullshit he found himself entrenched in.

“Just wheel me out to the curb for garbage day,” Dave mumbled, leaning his forehead against the desk. “I’m shit out of luck anyways, might as well rot in a dumpster somewhere and live off scraps with the sewer rats.”

Alright, maybe he was being a _ tad _ dramatic. Just a tad, though. He was living it up in Tad, West Virginia, by all accounts. Unlike some people he had the misfortune to know, he understood how to cap his theatrics. With a groan, he straightened. The house was silent for now, a far cry from its usual busybody antics, and he might as well enjoy the quiet while he could.

Still, Dave wasn’t sure whether to rejoice or despair that Dirk was out. He could use a distraction, but he wasn’t desperate enough yet to suffer a toddler’s interrogation methods. Sensitive matters like a wounded ego and failing love life would not suffer the many pokes, prods, and wiseass snark only a child could provide on a  _ good _ day. And today? Today was not a good day. It was just as well that Dave had planned for Roxy to bring him back around four, having assumed Jade would’ve stayed over that long to discuss what happened next with this whole ‘destiny bound for life’ shtick at work. As she hadn’t, he now had the whole place to himself.

Yippie-ki-fucking-yay. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

The posters plastered across the walls did not volunteer any advice. They instead stared blankly into the void, indifferent to his plight and to anything outside their own comic world realms. Only Ben Stiller’s gaunt, sweaty face hanging above the closet door afforded emotion, and Dave hadn’t yet cracked what the pained grimace was supposed to convey beyond #mood.

Pesterchum would be the obvious choice on any other day, but now? Now meant facing Jade, and Dave was about as ready to tackle  _ that  _ can of worms as he was ready to blow puppet dong. Which meant, in short: nope. No way, no how. He’d just have to find some other way to kill time.

So Dave thought. And thought. And  _ thought _ . 

Nothing of any value whatsoever came to mind. 

Unfortunately, it’d been a long,  _ long _ while since he’d had more than an hour at a time to peddle spontaneous shits and giggles all for himself. The past two years had spared little expense in squeezing his schedule dry, because apparently having a kid meant having to plan around  _ them _ every hour around the clock. Dave’s black market of personal entertainment had been busted, and now his ideas were as dry as reruns of C-Span.

Drawing shitty sketches of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff got old quick, with most pieces ending up crumpled in the bin. Music wasn’t enough to keep his attention either. Dave had sold his turntables months ago, so that was out of the picture, and god knows he couldn’t focus on reading. Homework for tomorrow night’s class was finished too.

Christ, when had he gotten so  _ boring? _

Dave spent approximately fifteen minutes dicking around before he finally gave up and opened pesterchum. He’d rather die an abrupt death in humiliation than wait around until his brain turned to sludge.

At least, he  _ hoped _ it’d be quick. Rose could be a stone cold fox with her prey.

Sure enough, within seconds of setting his status to ‘online,’ the treacherous message ‘ectoBiologist, tentacleTherapist, and gardenGnostic are calling…’ popped open a new window along the groupchat. He quickly skimmed up a bit to see if maybe, just  _ maybe _ , Jade had taken some small mercy on him and already filled them in on today’s disaster. But nope. She’d posted almost jack diddly squat, writing zero details and nothing beyond dodgy teases about “waiting for dave to get on ;D”. 

God. This was going to be fucking humiliating, but there was no way they were gonna leave him alone now without getting the full story. Even if he  _ did _ try to leave without sharing everything, Jade would just spill the beans anyways and give everyone violent verbal diarrhea. 

The call’s irritating jingle lasted a good thirty seconds before Dave clicked answer. Immediately, three separate video screens appeared against the dark background. 

“Finally!” John huffed, wringing his hands. He looked as if he was trying to act indignant, but the whole thing fell apart when his mouth split into a bucktooth grin. “What took you so long?”

“You know how it is with celebrities,” Dave said, faking an air of nonchalance. “People to see, autographs to sign, the works. Being fashionably late comes with the territory of being cool.”

“Ah yes, I’m sure we mere plebeians cannot hope to contend with your busy schedule,” Rose said. “A personage of your esteemed caliber must be quite the busybody, after all.” She turned away from her knitting to face the webcam, lavender eyes twinkling.

“Come on, Dave, stop beating around the bush and tell us what happened already!” John said, cutting in. “Jade’s been teasing us since she got back, me and Rose are like, dying over here!” 

Jade snorted. Dave groaned. “Ugh, Harley, you’re really gonna make me tell them, aren’t you.” 

“I’d laugh too hard to get it out,” she said brightly. As it was, Jade already looked like she was struggling to stopper her giggles, clamping down on her bottom lip with a barely repressed grin. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re having a good time, because I sure as fuck am fucking not. Alright, whatever, let’s rip this bandaid off real quick. So,” Dave said, avoiding looking at the screen, “first things first, me and Jade are definitely not soulmates. Hope you all had fun betting on that one or whatever, I’m sure I made someone a lot of money.”

“Personally, I’d consider this to have been the safer bet, actually,” Rose said. Dave glared. 

“Well, any fucking way,” he continued, “she brought Karkat Vantas with her, since she’s staying at his place and all, and he’s exactly as much of a douche in person as I expected him to be. Anyway, he’s real fuckin’ smug over me being wrong, because he is a bastard who cannot stand the thought of anyone finding happiness --” 

“Not true!” Jade interrupted. “He’s really not a bad guy at all once you get to know him, I keep trying to tell you that but you two won’t give each other a chance!”

“Whatever, I don’t care.”

“You kinda have to give him a chance, now,” Jade grinned. Rose raised an eyebrow, and John leaned in closer, his mouth forming a perfect, inquisitive ‘o’. 

“I don’t have to do jack shit,” Dave said. “I don’t fucking care. He can have fun being an asshole in his own corner of the world.” 

“Daaaave,” Jade whined. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting on with it. Anyway, I was fucking disappointed, like, you know, I have every right to be, but Shouty Shortass over there decides that I’m the bad guy for this somehow,  fuckin’ shoves me for no reason, and then  _ this  _ bullshit happens.” Dave held up his arm, shaking it enough that his sleeve dropped enough to show off the completed loop around his wrist. 

There was a beat of near-silence, filled only by the metaphorical sound of John’s jaw hitting the floor, and the literal sound of Jade hiding her snickering behind her hand. 

“You’re  _ kidding,”  _ Rose said, a treacherous grin spreading across her face. John finished processing the sight in front of him, slapped his hands together and barked out an unabashed laugh. 

“Right in front of everyone,” Dave groaned. “Some asshole started fucking filming us on his phone, so we’re probably on Youtube by now. Karkat losing his fucking shit, screaming at the sky, me trying to figure out if this is still actual fucking real life, meanwhile Jade’s laughing her ass off -- yeah, just like that, thank you for demonstrating, Harley. Thanks to all three of you for being so fucking supportive and sympathetic, for that matter. Thanks a lot, guys,” he added as all three of his friends dissolved into varying shades of laughter. “Yeah. Real cool of you guys. Jesus. You especially, John, I’d think you’d be too allergic to risk hanging out in the peanut gallery, but here we fuckin’ are. Thanks.” John’s only response was to fall out of his chair. Dave had never really understood what the fuck a ‘guffaw’ was supposed to be until now. 

“You know,” Rose said, dropping her hand from where it had been hiding her giggling, traitorous mouth, “I can actually kind of see that, in a way. You two certainly have enough raw personality to complement each other.” 

“You are talkin’ out your fuckin’ ass, Rose, and you know it,” Dave snapped back, drawing another round of laughter from Jade and John. “He’s what fuckin’ happens when a rabid wolverine has a misguided, drunken one-night stand with the ugliest garden gnome this side of the Mississippi, and then the baby takes an extra trip to the fuckin’ dump just to roll around in the smelliest garbage pile he can find for good measure. That’s Karkat. He doesn’t have fuckin’ personality, he’s just a sentient garbage bag of bad temper and general obnoxiousness.” 

John’s hand was visible on his webcam feed for a moment as it fiddled around with his computer. A moment later, “Let’s Get It On” started blasting out of his speakers just as his eyes peered mischievously over the top of his desk, and Jade disappeared from her screen, apparently having doubled over in laughter. 

“Egbert, I swear to  _ fuck,  _ I will jump right through the internet and burn everything you love.” 

“You love me,” John said.  

“Evidently, he also loves Karkat,” Rose hummed. 

Dave’s hand slapped against his forehead. He was so done with these chucklefucks. “I fucking _despise_ him, have I not made that clear?” Dave snapped. “The only interactions I’ve had with the douchebag are over twitter and all amount to him being intolerably fucking obnoxious! He’s not -- I’m not even _that_ into guys, for fuck’s sake!”  

Rose shot him a distinct “Really? You’re going to try and pull that in  _ this  _ chat?” look. Before she could say anything, however, John leaned forward on his desk, one bushy brow raised and face drawn into a confident smirk that warned Dave a great deal of regret lay in his immediate future. “Really?” John said, “Because that’s not what it looked like back in summer camp.” 

Jesus fucking H. G. W. Dick, talk about a bro code violation. “John, holy shit, no, that has --” 

Luckily for John, and just as  _ un _ luckily for Dave, Rose spared his sorry butt from getting the ass kicking of a lifetime for almost sharing a HIGHLY classified, top secret, do not mention the unmentionables mention of awkward pre-teen hook-ups he’d long ago locked away in Fort Knox. Her face the picture of sinister curiosity, she smirked, tutting her finger.

“Pardon me, but it sounds like there’s quite the story here,” she said. “You can’t just dangle a statement like that before us and leave us grasping for details.”

“There’s no story, put that smug grin away -- John, not a fucking word,” Dave snapped. “What the fuck, man?!” 

“Oh, there’s a  _ story,  _ all right,” John grinned. 

“There’s no fucking story! Nothing happened!”

“Your, hehehe, your face is bright red, Dave,” Jade wheezed. 

“I think something happened,” Rose said. 

“Nothing happened!!” 

“Oh, okay,” John said brightly, “Would you rather I told them about that time in freshman year when you turned to me and said, and I quote, ‘Do you think that the quarterback would let me su-’” 

“Oh, like you never admired the football teams’ asses in freshman year. Motherfucker, you were scopin’ that view just as hard as I was!” 

“Yeah, but I never announced my half-fantasies of actually getting to second base under the school bleachers to my best friend,  _ Dave.”  _

“ALRIGHT, FUCK, so I’ve had my fun with the  _ occasional _ bout of oral sodomy,” he said, ignoring John’s snort and Jade’s hoarse wheezing, “but this is one apple I sure as fuck ain’t bobbing for any time soon. He ain’t my type! He isn’t anyone’s type! He’s the fucking Plastic Man of the Justice League of dating options! Nobody fucking wants him!” 

“I smell a hatecrush,” Rose intoned. 

“I hate you all so fucking much,” Dave groaned.

* * *

 

tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering  ectoBiologist [EB]

TT: So.  
TT: What is all this about summer camp, exactly?   
EB: well…  
EB: im not saying that i totally walked in on dave making out with a dude from the next cabin over in the boathouse, but…  
TT: But you totally walked in on him making out with another boy in the boathouse?  
EB: :B 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> katt: ok we tried to be as clear about this as possible in text but were both a lil paranoid so to be clear, john did not just out dave outing ppl is never funny, no one in the beta chat is particularly straight and theyre all aware of it. theyre just harassing him because dave 'has told everyone in this chat that he'd let dwayne the rock johnson raw him' strider is trying to pretend gender has any impact on who hes attracted to in a desperate attempt to worm his way out of destiny  
> also this chapter might seem like its not progressing much but i promise its setting up a lot of important stuff
> 
> Possk: The chapter in which Dave Can't Catch A Fucking Break. Not from the weather, his friends. Not even Janice. But aye Katt's right, got a lot planned for future chapters and some scenes have already been written. Far more means to shit on our heroes' heads are on the horizon, rest assured. Also: shout out to my friend who programmed a means to code the pesterlogs automatically instead of the ridiculous clusterfuck that is manually. Godspeed, man, even if you do hate Homestuck we love you in its stead.
> 
> And thank you SO much folks for the comments and kudos! We've really appreciated them. We haven't responded to avoid craziness of two people replying at once but seriously, y'all mean the world. <3


	3. Chapter 3

Dave was not one to lose his patience easily. Or, more accurately, he was not one to make his impatience well _known_ , at least to the general public at large _._ Instead, he thrived off a façade of chill indifference, where little to nothing could chip past his stoic composure and tousle the (admittedly fragile) amygdala within.

There were exceptions to the rule, of course. Certain exemptions that always managed to toe the line between ‘acceptable’ and ‘downright fucking obnoxious’ on any given occasion.

The most common offender was none other than Karkat Vantas, Grandiose Prick Extraordinaire and the human equivalent of a hornet-infested scrotum. And after yesterday’s whole debacle, Dave had been left with a rather delicate disposition, one that grew increasingly agitated whenever his eyes bore witness to the incriminating mark emblazoned upon his left wrist. Tiny, circular, and blood red, it served as a permanent reminder that Dave was wholeheartedly and unequivocally _fucked_.

Old Granny Johnson was not helping Dave’s temper.

Most people would consider the sidewalk an appropriate avenue for pedestrian transportation, a place safe from unyielding SUVs bustling to work and uncouth youths parading the streets on too-tiny scooters. But Missus Johnson? Oh, no. Missus Johnson _scoffed_ at such millennial hearsay, shrugging off any sensible concern or complaint to take to the road on a goddamned hoveround. A hoveround piloted by two likewise aging Shih Tzus, no less, both of whom spread across the street like the wingéd tips of a particularly obtuse, dog-obsessed fallen angel.

In his unsolicited opinion, Old Granny Johnson was deeply reminiscent of Lucifer. Gifted with enough wrinkles, orifices, and acerbic bitterness to send any man, woman, or child to church, she served as the literal embodiment of wickedness in action. Case in point: her current position in front of his car, which blocked any means of passing her and therefore greatly reduced any probable chance he’d had of making it to work on time.

Dave was, to say the least, not happy.

At an astonishing pace of 1.5 mph, the motorized wheelchair buckled along, more likely pulled by the momentum of the Shih Tzus than of any personal electrical ingenuity (Dave was quite convinced the thing had died years ago and Missus Johnson just hadn’t realized it yet). Atop the powerchair sat the grim reaper herself, old and sagging and gray-haired as her sentient mops surveyed every nook and cranny that asphalt had to offer. What treasures lay there were beyond Dave’s imagination, but the sight of the bow-tied hairballs taking pause to sniff another creature’s shit was just enough to push his patience over the brink.

Eye twitching, he released his left hand’s grip on the steering wheel and clutched the crank affixed the door. Twisting it counterclockwise, he began the tedious process of opening the window.

For whatever reason, Dave’s parents had found cheerful irony in buying a car dependent on manual labor to open something as simple as the window. Seeing as how he had no other vehicle in his possession, Dave had little choice but to partake in the rust bucket’s games. Whatever. At least the rundown jalopy adhered to child safety laws and, even better, was already paid for.

“Hey Granny J,” Dave said, sticking his nose out as soon as the window allowed it, “I don’t wanna be rude and all, but for the love of all that is good and holy, could you _please_ use the sidewalk like literally everyone else does in this shithole of a neighborhood?”

Dave was nothing if not polite. The most courteous, well-mannered man to grace the suburbs, thank you very fucking much. Helping old ladies cross the street by yelling at them to haul ass was the absolute pinnacle of achievement boy scouts could only aspire to.

Old Granny Johnson apparently did not share this sentiment. She gave little indication that she’d heard Dave at all except to turn her head slightly left, fixing him with a cold, dead eyed stare that acutely reminded him of rotting fish after a long day at market. She turned back and continued at her normal pace, of which resembled the speed of a decrepit slug.

For good measure, Dave planted his palm on the horn. Missus Johnson merely flipped him off and paid him no further attention.

Motherfucker.

“Bro, that’s a bad word!”

Argh.

“Sorry, Dirk,” Dave groaned.

Sometimes, just sometimes, he forgot his kid brother was audience to his almost every word, every naughty parlance and phrase known to the gutters of his young adult mind. While he loved Dirk more than anything, sometimes a guy just needed to scream obscenities into the void because some old hag wouldn’t move the fuck over. A basic necessity of life, one that the world had universally decided to waive him of. Perfect.

Dave was about ready to pop a blood vessel, and hated the fact that it reminded him of Karkat. Goddamn knob goblin always made him feel a little uncool, but this was just fucking _ridiculous_ . Why couldn’t things go his way, just once? Just _once?_

He hoped Dame Fortuna was having a right laugh up there, because god knows he damn well wasn’t.

“What’s goin’ on?” Dirk asked, small hands gripping the black polyester of his car seat. He leaned forward as much as the padded harness would allow him, amber eyes inquisitive as he peered across the space. Unfortunately for him, the dashboard was still too tall for any small child to see over, and he let loose a frustrated raspberry. “I can’t see!”

“There’s nothing _to_ see,” Dave said, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “Just destiny itself has decided to screw me over today. Business as usual and all that.”

With his free hand, he scooched back and ruffled Dirk’s blond hair, earning a startled giggle for his trouble. The puff of laughter was enough to soothe at least some of Dave’s frayed nerves, and he couldn’t help but smile. Of course, not even Dirk could melt the tension coiled deep within his gut, always resting beneath the surface as he made his day to day rounds, but any relief regardless was more than welcome.

Though right here, right now, the most welcome relief would be for Old Granny Johnson to _move the fuck over already_ . Dave turned his eyes back to the road, unsurprised to see she’d crept forward only a few feet in that interlude. Still, the street split into two about a yard beyond her, and with a little luck… _Yes!_

Finally, _finally_ , Old Granny Johnson turned right at the stop sign, freeing up the road for a now winding queue of aggravated drivers honking every which way. Dave pressed down hard on the accelerator, rushing past her and out of the neighborhood with the line of cars in tow. Dirk cheered, and with a quick glance at his watch, Dave thought that maybe, just _maybe,_ he might be able to squeak into work on time if he hauled serious ass.

Oh, who was he kidding, Houston traffic was in full swing and lanes were crammed tighter than packaged sardines.

Dave was going to be late, and he just knew a demerit was calling his name, serenading it with promises of cut pay and less hours if he didn’t get his act together. They’d been incredibly accommodating in spite of his quote-unquote “situation,” but allowing a (usually) well-behaved toddler to run rampant in the office was one thing—being late on the clock was another.

Taking a deep breath, Dave willed himself to calm down. _One thing at a time, Strider, just one thing at a time._ And not for the first time, Dave was glad to hide his eyes behind familiar black polycarbonate. If nothing else, his shades were able to somewhat conceal his expressions from outsiders. They made him look like a douche, of course, but at least a douche not on the precipice of an emotional breakdown. Dave had to value the small things in life, after all.

“I still wish I could see,” Dirk said with a huff. He crossed his freckled arms, inflating his cheeks in a pout. “I’mma—I’m a big boy now! Do I really need my car seat? Why can’t I sit with you?”

It was a conversation they’d had many a time before, to varying degrees of success. Dave knew that _Dirk_ knew his answer verbatim, and prayed to whatever gods that be that they’d allow him to avoid temper tantrum central. Dave had enough on his plate as it was without adding ‘upset toddler’ to the list.

“For one thing: child safety laws,” Dave said, running his fingers down his face. It was even scruffier than usual, with blonde fuzz spreading across his cheeks with the rapidity of an invasive shrub. He’d have to trim that within the next week or so—it was one thing to rock the ‘exhausted college student’ look like a pro, and another to straight up transform into Rutherford B. Hayes. If he kept it up, sooner or later Houston’s Beard and Mustache Society would start ringing his doorbell, and even irony couldn’t justify wearing the jungle that was Chucktown Follicle Brown’s illustrious goatee. “It’s a huge ‘no-no’ to have kids take shotgun, y’know? It’s all right there in the _Adulthood for Dummies_ we old farts get handed when we finish high school and turn eighteen. Just boom, as soon as you’re reaching for your diploma, Mr. Hyde tackles you from behind and beats you over the head with it until you’re magically an adult befit of the big one-eight. Point is, I’d be breaking Law 15, Title 420, Article 1, Section 04-13-09 B if I let you sit up front with me. So—”

“But Bro,” Dirk whined, ignoring Dave’s tangent as if it were nothing more than senseless white noise (which, for all practical purposes, it was), “I _want_ to.”

That was all the reasoning Dirk gave. For a small boy, that was all the rationale necessary to justify his desires, logic and forethought be damned.

From his rearview mirror, Dave caught a glimpse of Dirk’s face. A red tinge was beginning to bloom there, coloring his freckles and overtaking his pale skin. Nose wrinkling, his brows pinched together, and his lip gave a crestfallen wobble. At that moment, Dirk was, quite literally, the absolute poster-child of a three year old on the verge of meltdown.

Oh, god.

Dave hesitated. He wished he could give him what he wanted, he truly did. Not only to save the increasingly limited resource that was his own sanity, but because he _hated_ seeing Dirk upset. Still, this was just one thing he _couldn’t_ budge on. Right?

A small, traitorous part of his mind whispered to do it anyways, that no one would ever know if he let a three year old toddler sit upfront. It was only a twenty minute drive, nobody would know, nobody would _care_ —

An image of a wrecked car flashed in his mind, broken, bloody, and fractured across I-45, featuring a baby Dirk in the midst.

Dave squashed the thought with a shudder, digging it deep into the ground with the flat of his heel. No. Dirk wasn’t sitting next to him. Case closed, class dismissed. Kick that puppy into reverse and back it the fuck up into the ‘Hell No’ zone, that shit was non-negotiable and not happening.

Still, no need to take an earful of raging toddler lungs if he could avoid it. He’d have to play it careful.

“Well, what about Li’l Seb?” Dave asked, pulling into the next lane. “You wanna sit next to him, right? He’s gotta wear his seatbelt too, and last I checked, neither of y’all know how to drive.”

Dirk eyed the toy in question. Little Sebastian, or ‘Li’l Seb’ as Dirk called him, was a well-stuffed, well-loved American Quarter horse plush that Dave had bought him for his second birthday. The ‘pony pals’ had been inseparable since, and Li’l Seb had the wear and tear to prove it.

Thankfully, Rose had been kind enough to patch and sew up any holes that appeared in the fabric, much to Dirk’s (and therefore Dave’s) eternal gratitude. He sat adjacent to the car seat, beady black eyes staring into the nothingness that was nylon upholstery. With enough crisscrossing stitches to put Finklestein’s Sally to shame, Li’l Seb was lumpy and misshapen due to Rose’s numerous ‘surgeries’ over the past year, but Dirk adored him all the same.

Dirk chewed his lip, looking between the stuffed animal and his brother. As hard in thought as any child could be, it was evident that ‘the Choice’ was more difficult than he could have ever imagined. Still, desire to stay close to Li’l Seb must have won out in the end as Dirk leaned back into the seat, relaxing.

“Hm…I guess so,” Dirk relented. With an exaggerated sigh, he tugged Li’l Seb closer, burying his fingers in the soft plush hoof.

Whew. Crisis averted. Dave breathed a sigh of relief. However, said respite soon gave way to vexation when he entered the lot and surveyed his surroundings.

Now for an entirely new disaster: finding a place to park.

Wonderful.

 

* * *

 

Karkat had never been very good at patience. One might more accurately say that he was one to flip his shit at the drop of a hat. To be fair, life dropped quite a few hats—Karkat attributed it to the sheer number of idiots he found himself surrounded by at any given time, each gladly contributing to the abandoned headwear surplus on a daily basis with fervent glee. Pretty much anything could ‘get his goat’ if it tried hard enough and tousle the (admittedly overworked) amygdala within.

If there were any exceptions, they’d yet to be found.

Of course, Karkat had never been one to clamp down on his opinions. If someone was being an absolute ass pimple, it was his sworn duty to make them well-aware of this fact. Whether it pertained to something as significant as an individual or as routine as the weather, he always had to speak his mind and say his piece.

For example, today was hot. Really hot. Far hotter than any January had the right to be, and far warmer than Channel 13 had ever suggested to dress for earlier that morning. As of now, his back was slick with sweat under the baking sun, and his gray sweater vest clung to it with the tenacity of a rather resolute gecko. The accompanying humidity only worsened his situation as fat rolls of perspiration dribbled down his brown cheeks and bulbous nose without any sign of letting up any time soon. Although native to the tropics, even Jade herself winced when it seeped into her eyes, for regardless of regional origin, it stung like an absolute motherfucker to have sodium chloride make unholy union with one’s cornea.

It was, frankly, disgusting, nasty, and dare he say—even gross. A pain in the ass, if you will. A pain made all the greater while hefting a two ton bag of soil and a very large, very heavy potted cactus.

_“I can’t believe you’ve had this apartment over two years without a proper plant!” Jade had chided, tugging her suitcase free from beneath the bed with a huff. “We’ve been friends for how long now?”_

_“We can’t all be obsessed with sparkleberries, Jade,” Karkat had said._

_“I’m surprised you know what_ Vaccinium arboreum _even is. I didn’t know you studied botany, Karkat!”_

_“I don’t,” Karkat had groused. “I refuse to take any responsibility whatsoever for knowing some of the bullshit plant names you’ve dropped over the years. Are you happy, Jade? Your insidious indoctrination into the black magic that is phytology is working. No longer may I walk into McDonalds as a free man, looking for a nice, terrible tasting bacon ranch salad to wet my whistle and satisfy my cravings for quote-unquote ‘healthy’ fast food. Instead I have to question which leafy greens comprise which caloric travesty. That and whether or not the prepackaged lettuce will give me salmonella. Thanks a fucking lot.”_

_“Don’t shoot the messenger, Karkat.”_

_“Fuck that, you’ve single handedly forever ruined bagged salad.”_

_“And you’re very welcome!” Jade had hummed. “But either way I’m getting you a plant, no ifs ands or buts! Hmm, how about… a cactus? It’s supposed to help you sleep better at night, and—don’t give me that look, I know you’re not sleeping well again—even better, it’s all prickly like you! We’ll get it before I leave this afternoon, I can pack later.”_

So now he had a potted cactus. And was sweating his balls off in the Houston sun as a result.

Joy.

Karkat refused to admit how much he appreciated the stupid plant, especially now, if only to save face. Jade seemed to understand.

Regardless, there was a plethora of things he could complain about at any given time and on any given day when given the opportunity. And if no such opportunity presented itself, he would simply wrestle one to the ground until it squealed for mercy, allowing him to continue forth with whatever tangent he had in mind as it licked its wounds in the distance. But even for Karkat, the subject of Dave Strider was a sensitive issue, one that he had little to no interest in ever foregoing.

Recent developments had done nothing to improve his opinion of the aforementioned trash fire. If anything, yesterday had gone and poured kerosene, gasoline, and acetone all over it. The resulting cocktail clusterfuck made Chernobyl look like a shivering wet match wedged in a snowbank. But despite its intensity, it was all still too tame to rival even a tenth of the storm brewing in Karkat’s own mind. Jade’s generosity had helped, but gloomier thoughts nevertheless weighed heavy on his heart as the pair plodded up the stairs.

Destiny really was a two-bit joke, wasn’t it? Rom-coms were every bit as fake and forced as _their_ relationship had been, and he’d been a fool to imagine otherwise. He grit his teeth, shaking himself from the dark reverie. What a fucking inheritance.

Karkat threw open the door to his apartment. Banging against the wall guard with an audible _thump,_ small tremors pulsed throughout the gray plaster as they walked inside. It was a small place, just over 340 square feet with everything from the bathroom sink to the tattered couch squashed in-between, but it was home. Karkat dropped the bag against the kitchen counter, while Jade much more carefully placed the cactus on the floor.

“Whew, there we go!” Jade said, dusting herself off. “That wasn’t so bad was it, Mr. Grumpy Pants?”

“Jade, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s only one ‘Mr. Grumpy Pants’ in this apartment—and it’s not me.”

“Oh I’ve _noticed_ alright, but I just assumed you named him after yourself!”

“Why you—!”

Jade slipped past Karkat with ease, making a beeline toward his room and choking on her giggles. She set up shop near his desk, zipping open her suitcase to begin the incredible journey that was traversing fifty miles worth of Amtrak railway later that afternoon. Atop the bed adjacent her sat an enormous cat, yellow eyes gleaming as they watched the humans file into the room.

It was, to say the least, one of the ugliest mops of fluff anyone with functioning eyeballs had ever seen. Shaggy, unkempt fur clung tight to its large frame, twisting and curling in every which direction as if the creature regularly partook in extreme hurricane surfs. No matter how many combs or brushes or similarly overpriced feline products its owner went through, its pelt remained as matted as ever. An array of gray hues further decorated its mottled coat, each uglier and more haggard than the last, as darker splashes covered its sordid muzzle, ears, and tail.

Fangs peeked out from behind its black lips at all times, with the cat’s flat features only accentuating the underbite’s severity. Whether due to a previous injury or if it was simply born disfigured, the cat as a result wore a perpetual resting bitch face, one that sent many a wayward child fleeing for their mothers’ legs.

Karkat loved the hairball more than almost anything else in the world. Certainly far more than any bespectacled tool pawning off the remnants of a Sears clearance rack as ‘fashionable,’ anyways. Karkat fell back against the bed, earning a rumbling purr for his effort as Grumpelstiltskin, affectionately nicknamed ‘Grumpy,’ took up stock near his head.

“Are you okay, Karkat?” Jade asked, pausing to look over her shoulder.

“Oh, I’m just fine and dandy,” Karkat said. “My god, I’m so dandy that the universe doesn’t know what to do with itself! Karkat, it says? _Dandy?_ Stop the presses!” He threw his hands up into the air with bitter gusto. “Nevermind the fact that the relative equivalent of an abscess has ruptured open on my forearm, marked by the cloven hoof of Lady Destiny herself after she went and trampled my love life like the swollen hag that she is!”

“Well, it _was_ sorta your fault since you pushed him,” Jade said reasonably. “If you hadn’t, you’d still have no idea!”

Karkat cast her a withering glare from his space on the bed, but to limited success. Jade had already turned her back on his sorrows, choosing to continue the monotonous task of packing up rather than further indulge his rampant histrionics. With an audible groan, he rolled over and buried his face in his sheets. Grumpelstiltskin gave a sympathetic chirp.

“Thanks, Grumpy,” Karkat said, voice muffled. “I always knew I could count on y—OUCH, Grumpy NO!”

Grumpy, as it would seem, had taken it upon himself to begin nibbling on his human’s hair. He nuzzled into it with the placidity of a raging bull, one attempting and failing to peruse a china shop’s fragile wares with nonexistent grace. Like the aforementioned cattle, Grumpy was far too brusque in his actions, pulling on the wet black strands with too-large fangs, overextended claws, and a thorough lack of regard for its attachment to Karkat’s scalp.

Grumpy meant well, he really did. He just failed to understand that the funny strings on the bed were not, in fact, playthings, and that Karkat had grown rather fond of having them affixed to his head.

“Cheer up,” Jade said, plucking yet another wrinkled shirt from the floor as Karkat wrestled to free himself from the cat’s clutches. “Some soulmates don’t even live on the same _continent_ , much less the same city. And within walking distance, no less! Look on the bright side for once, Karkat!”

“Did you even look outside yesterday, Jade?” Karkat said, disentangling himself from Grumpy with a huff. “It rained enough to flood Atlantis a second time over, and it’s drowned all my hopes and dreams for a successful relationship in the process. The reality is that there _is_ no bright side, okay! Literal, metaphorical, or anything in-between!”

“Oh?” Jade asked. A sly smile overtook her lips, one Karkat immediately decided he didn’t like when she paired it with a suspicious waggling of eyebrows. “So what you’re saying is that you dream a lot about relationships, huh? Tell me, then, what sort of ‘ _romantic’_ dreams do you dream about, Karkat?”

Karkat spluttered. He had long since been over his crush on her, leaving that embarrassing drama behind in the pimple laden days of early high school. While the awkwardness had passed, Jade’s inclination to tease him about it had not.

“T-that’s not the point!” Karkat snapped, warmth spreading across his cheeks. He picked up an errant Squiddle, a purple one she always brought with her on trips, and threw it. Jade only grinned, sticking out her tongue as she caught it by the tentacle. “And we’re not getting into that again!”  

“Well, what is the point?”

“The _point_ is that the gods have quite literally cried me a river, one so awash now with crocodile tears that I’m floating down it on a shitty makeshift raft. They seek an offering, demanding praise and eternal worship for their quote-unquote ‘generosity,’ but no! My pagan ass offers naught but two extended middle fingers as I scream a righteous and glorious ‘fuck you’ to the heavens. I’ll take on the monsoon by myself, divinity be damned. I don’t need the Fates to dictate the rules of love like they’re the goddamn Council of Nicea, not when they’re so obviously wrong. The basic point, Jade, is that I don’t want to share the same country with Dave, much less the same city!”

By the end of his rant, Karkat was panting. Grumpy, in the meanwhile, had decided his rump was in much need of cleaning, and slurped unceremoniously as he licked it.

“I mean, you could always move if you’re that against it,” Jade said, similarly unperturbed by his fury. She’d had a long time to familiarize herself with his temper tantrums, after all. During the throes of his tangent, she’d even returned to packing her suitcase, stuffing one last pair of jeans into it before zipping up. Satisfied, she pulled back, rising to her feet. “Now, I’m going to make myself some tea before checking in on the train. I’ll grab you some water on my way, too—that was pretty overblown, even for you.”

With that, Jade exited the room, heading back through the apartment for the kitchen. Grumpelstiltskin was quick to follow, jumping from the bed in hopes of using his ‘feline persuasion’ to earn a treat or two. Karkat pouted.

“…Thanks,” he mumbled. His throat _did_ hurt after all. And everything with the plant was—

“FUCKASS!” Jade howled from the kitchen, startling Karkat from his roost. With a yelp, he fell to the floor.

“THE FUCK, JADE?!” Karkat yelled back, peering out from behind the door. “The hell was that about?”

“You know what you just said!” She whipped her head back into view, accusatory stare undercut by the smile she was obviously fighting behind her buck teeth.

“What, thanking you?!” Karkat said incredulously. “Fuck, am I too much of an asshole to thank my best friend for grabbing me some water, even though _she’s_ the guest and _I’m_ the sorry bastard that lives here? Well, excuse me!”

“Oh!” Jade said, eyes widening. “Whoops, I just sort of assumed you were going to be a smartass so I preemptively retaliated. Sorry, then!” And with that, she pulled herself away, preparing to heat up the tea. A few heartbeats passed before Karkat heaved a sigh and sat down again.

Goddammit.

This girl would be the death of him some day, in one shape or another.

After about a good fifteen minutes, Jade returned with two mugs in hand. A sweet, crisp fragrance wafted off the tea, filling the room with the scent of orchids and aggravating Karkat’s nostrils. Taking no notice of the way his nose wrinkled, she sat beside him on the bed, sipping her cup carefully and passing the other onto him. Grumpelstiltskin trailed after her, crumbs littering the bushy amazon he so generously called a face. He bounced onto Karkat’s lap and mewled.

“I know your whole shtick is ‘plant obsessed crazy woman,’” Karkat grumbled, digging his fingers into Grumpy’s wiry fur, “but do you _have_ to make my whole apartment smell like a florist’s wet dream? And on a complete and utterly unrelated yet still relevant because fuck you I said so note: why is it always your life’s work to fatten my cats up whenever you stay over?”

“Awwww, but Karkat, he looks so happy!” Jade said, scratching his chin with her free hand. “How am I supposed to say no to that face? And yes, I do, so suck it up. You don’t see _me_ complaining about your coffee grounds in the morning.”

“Jade, he looks like a reject Snuffleupagus fresh out of rehab, only you couldn’t say no to it.” That was a bullshit lie; Karkat spoiled said deflated muppet rotten, but Jade didn’t have to know that.

Grumpy, like any self-respecting cat, was utterly unconcerned with the human hullabaloo going on around him and simply purred.

Eventually their squabbling quieted down, as it always did. The comfortable silence was only broken by Grumpelstiltskin, whose purrs sounded more akin to an overworked meat grinder than an actual cat’s, and Jade’s audible tea slurps. For the latter, growing up on an island far from civilization had not proved too conducive to ‘societal etiquette,’ and Jade quite preferred it that way. As for Grumpy, well—Karkat was yet convinced the creature he’d adopted was fully feline. Perhaps part beluga whale, or some sentient dishwasher gone awry.

“I’m going to miss this,” Jade sighed, placing her finished mug on the carpet. “I’m going to miss _you_ . Even if you are a ridiculous butt, you’re still _my_ ridiculous butt, you know? I hate having to say goodbye.”

“I—yeah, I know,” Karkat said. He chewed his lip. “I’m going to miss you too.”

Although they tried to see each other a few times a year, it always hurt to see the other go. As much as they teased and pissed one another off, joking and jibing without mercy, they’d been friends for a long, long time now. Jade had been one of Karkat’s first online friends, and remained one of his strongest.

“It’s too bad Dave had to leave yesterday,” Jade continued. “I guess I should’ve told him sooner that I had to get back to the site today, but with everything that happened, it was hard to focus on anything but your faces!”

“Gee, thanks Jade, I’m glad my ugly mug is a primary source of entertainment for you,” Karkat said, rolling his eyes. “But whatever, I say good fucking riddance! That jackass can go eat feces fettuccine for all I care. He’s a bigger prick than all the spines on Pricklestein combined!”

“Pricklestein?” Jade arched her brow. “Aw, you’ve named the cactus already! You _do_ care!”

“I will shove the cactus down your throat, Harley.”

“But anyways—I guess we’d better get going, huh? For once it looks like Amtrak’s going to be on time today.”

“Oh. Right,” Karkat said, carding his fingers through his hair. After a beat, he sighed and stood.

“Yeah, let’s get a move on. Traffic’s going to be fucking hell at this hour.”

And hell it was, as Houston traffic was nothing short of a nightmare on a _good_ day. Nevertheless, after a long half hour of screeching, swearing, and honking, they finally arrived at the station. It’d seen better days, of course, before planes had taken over the transportation industry and left the good old Iron Horse to rust apart, but damn if it wasn’t cheaper than airfare.

When it came time to say goodbye, Jade wrapped her arms around Karkat’s neck and pulled him in for a tight hug. Karkat returned the gesture just as fiercely. He buried his face in her hair, brown locks tickling his nose and cheeks, and okay, _maybe_ he suppressed a small sniffle here or there. Maybe he was tearing up as they broke apart, too, but who’s to say. Nobody, that’s who. And anyone who thought less of him for it was kindly invited to choke on dessicated donkey dick, alright?!

Miraculously, the train didn’t take two centuries and a fortnight to arrive, rolling across the tracks in record time. With luggage in hand, Jade walked toward a serviceman and gave it to him.

“Remember to text me when you get there!” Karkat yelled over the crowd. “Don’t forget like last time, you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Yes, dad,” Jade said, stepping aboard. “I’ll remember! Goodbye, Karkat! I’ll talk to you soon!”

“Fuck you, you better!”

Laughing, Jade gave one final wave before disappearing into the train. Karkat waited until it pulled out of station before raising his hand and waving back. After a few moments of waiting by the entrance, he turned and walked back to his car.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> katt: possk like powered through this whole chapter alone, i cant take credit for anything but the art and basically beta reading. anyway heres baby dirk and a very important cat (probably)
> 
> Possk: Not gonna lie, I had a lotta fun writing this schlock and I'm proud to finally show it off. Katt perfectly captured my imagination of Dave in that scene too and it's just A+ 10/10 always recommend.
> 
> Missus Johnson is a real person btw, I can't make this shit up even if I tried. She's not named Missus Johnson, and she's _probably_ not Lucifer incarnate, but my teammates _did_ run into an old lady on a hoveround a few months ago. She was smack dab in the middle of the road with her two Shih Tzus and blocking the van from exiting the neighborhood, giving little shits as to who was behind her. I thought the whole thing was fucking hysterical so I immediately got to writing this scene to parody it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY there's a sUPER long twitter argument at the end of this chapter and if you have trouble viewing the screenshots there's a transcript available [here!!](http://blatherkatt.tumblr.com/private/170691997584/tumblr_p3weg4s0pO1rlszez) if anyone can't view that version either we'll work something out for you to see what went down! i'll pastebin this sunuvagun if that's what it takes just watch me

Karkat was very nearly back home, after spending the better part of another fucking hour in traffic, when he remembered he needed to get Grumpy some more cat food. He swore. The pet store was back behind him, and it’d take so fucking long to go back — ah, fuck it, there was a gas station nearby that he was pretty sure had pet food. He could pick up something to last Grumpy a few days until he could get his normal gourmet schlock.

Even getting to the gas station proved an object lesson in tedium, fuck rush hour traffic in every last hypothetical orifice, but at least he was able to find parking easy enough. The building was a run-down looking pile of timbers and metal. It was a good thing the sun wasn’t all the way down yet, because the one light still working to illuminate the lot was flickering weakly. There were some high schoolers hanging around outside, laughing about something or other next to a literal wooden board slapped across a hole in the window that Karkat was sure had been there when he’d last visited this particular station a month before and apparently just hadn’t been fixed yet.

But at the very least the store was pretty well stocked, usually. Mostly because most people didn’t bother with this particular station on account of it looking like something straight out of a shitty horror movie. And for whatever reason this one sold pet food, too, for a variable definition of “food.”  

It took him way too long to find where the cat food was, way in the back of the store by the chilled drinks, and even longer to find a brand among the tiny handful available that wasn’t made of complete fucking garbage. Fucking animal _byproduct_ meal was not a thing he wanted to ever see listed under ingredients. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Fur? Hooves? Literal, actual chicken shit? God, he needed to make sure to get to the pet store and get Grumpy’s usual brand as soon as possible. Grumpy was too good for this bargain bin bullshit. Did people really willingingly feed this shit to their cats? At the very least, he was able to find one whose first ingredient was actual fucking meat. It was still pretty crappy looking, but it’d at least make sure that the poor cat didn’t go hungry tonight. Just had to check it out and he could go home…

An unfortunately now familiar voice was audible from the other side of the aisle, behind him and off to the side, furiously muttering just loud enough for Karkat to make out every last insufferable word.  

“Fuckin’ shitty absence policy can kiss my ass, fuck’s sakes. I don’t even wanna be going to class today but noooo, Mr. Shufflebottom Dungworth has to be a massive fuckin’ pain in the ass at any and all goddamn times. What, my students, having a life outside the night classes I teach at Bumfuck Community College? Preposterous! Pretentious shithead, it’s a fuckin’ business course anyway, no one’s here cuz we wanna be, it’s not some prestigious class we worked hard to get into, but nooo, the idea of me wanting to stay home for once is somehow as bad as if I fuckin’ walked up to his mother and personally pissed in her tea.”

Karkat scowled and set the can down, turning on his heel. There, holding a bag of off-brand potato chips and a fucking Lunchables pack (because of course he was immature enough to go for that crap) awkwardly in one arm as the other fumbled to grab a can of Red Bull, was Karkat’s new least favorite beanpole, dumb shades and all.

He narrowed his eyes and glared. Of course. Of fucking _course,_ after having to say goodbye to Jade and deal with two rounds of shitty traffic, there was one more pain in the ass to put up with. He was still mumbling, too, completely unaware of Karkat’s presence, off in his own little world. Karkat wasn’t sure what gave the asshole the nerve to think that he had the right to fucking cross Karkat’s path now of all days, or ever, for that matter --

Well. Okay, he was probably just here by chance. Good old Destiny, still not done having its giggle-fit at his expense. But he wasn’t fucking having any of it. Not today.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing here?” Karkat called out. He tried to keep it down somewhat, since they were in a fucking building and all, but it was still a bit louder than he intended it to be. He set the can of cat food down and turned to cross his arms and glare as he spoke.  

Dave fell silent probably mid-word, not even looking at Karkat initially, just screwing up his face and sighing, as if he were the one with real fucking problems. Everyone (or at least everyone Karkat knew; he had no idea why they had so many mutual fucking friends, it was ridiculous) knew that the guy just coasted by on his parents’ money. Karkat had heard plenty of what sort of shit the jackass got up to, some of which should probably have gotten him arrested a long time ago, and yet here he was, acting like he was the world-weary one. Oh, but it must be so hard to avoid getting caught when vandalizing his teachers’ cars, Karkat thought. Such a struggle to commit to the oh so necessary task of drawing dicks in permanent marker on the principal’s station wagon. So _exhausting._

“Really? First I can’t just be disappointed about something, and now I’m not allowed to get a a fuckin’ energy drink?” Dave said. “Jesus, man, I wasn’t even doing anything, and you’re gettin’ all riled up at me for fuckin’ existing.”

“Existing? You were damn well irradiating my eardrums with your toxic drivel, you gossiping garbage disposal! You’re out in public letting your mouth run on autopilot, unaware that the program it runs on is, in fact, quintessentially broken, and the entire machine is about to cause a fucking ten car pileup on the interstate if you don’t take the wheel and get your blithering ass off the road!”

Dave flinched, very slightly. He recovered before Karkat had the chance to wonder why, and snapped, “Okay, first of fucking all, don’t make me explain why you using that many words to tell a guy to shut up makes you a hypocrite. Second, uh, walk the fuck away next time, maybe? It’s not that hard, like, God damn, I’m kind of in a hurry here, we wouldn’t have to be acknowledging each other at all right now. But you can’t chill out for two fucking seconds, I guess? Sorry for breathing your air, man! Fuck me sideways, how can Jade even stand to be _around_ you?”

“You’re the one whose friendship with Jade is an unanswerable question,” Karkat said. “You’re so fucking annoying, I don’t know how _she_ stands _you!_ But she _wanted_ to hang out with you, for some fucking reason I will never understand, and keeps trying to tell me you’re an okay guy and not a complete waste of space!”

“Wait, hold up -- why the fuck are you talking about her in the past tense?” Dave sounded suddenly worried, although Karkat couldn’t read his face behind the shades. “Does she not want to anymore, or…?”

“She had to go back to the dig site,” said Karkat. “I’m here on the way back from dropping her off at the station.”

“Wh-- already?” His face fell, and Karkat felt a small internal flare of smug satisfaction.

“Yes, already! She was only here for a couple days! You would’ve known that if you’d maybe pulled your head out of your ass long enough to listen to her, or, I don’t know, stuck around the one time you had actually planned to meet up with her, instead of storming off angry because things didn’t go your way this one time?”

Dave rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, you’re not dumping that shit on me. Like hell I was sticking around after that fuckin’ fiasco, not after you drew the attention of the entire goddamn world with your screeching. There was no salvaging that meetup and you know it.”

“All I’m saying is that you missing out on getting to hang around Jade is entirely your own fault, which I would normally find satisfying if it weren’t for the fact that, for some absurd reason, she actually values your company and was disappointed to have missed out on a chance to do whatever the fuck it is you two would do together.” Okay, that was a lie, he wasn’t sad about that at all. Maybe a little bit sad that Jade had been disappointed, but it was so overwhelmed by how glad he was of minimizing the amount of Dave Strider in his life that it wasn’t even really noticeable.

“I had shit to do, fuck off! Augh, that fuckin’ sucks, dammit…” Dave awkwardly tried to run a hand through his hair, hindered by the can of Red Bull. “Ugh, whatever, I gotta fuckin’ get to class. Ain’t got time to deal with your bullshit,” he sighed, turning and stalking off toward the register.

“Sure you do,” Karkat said. “You and I both know you’re not responsible enough to give a shit about being on time, you’re only using your damn classes as an excuse, because you know damn well I’ve won this round!”  

“Fuck off,” Dave called over his shoulder. Karkat, equal parts vindictive and furious, stormed off toward the door and pushed out angrily.

He ran back in a moment later, remembering why he’d come to the store in the first place, snatched up the can of cat food, and had to suffer the mild indignity of Dave very deliberately pushing his shades up with a long middle finger as he stepped out of the store himself.

The ride home was all the more infuriating for the memory of Dave’s smug grin.

 

* * *

 

 Well, that put him in a spectacularly foul mood. What _else_ could go wrong today?

Gritting his teeth, Karkat slammed the door to his apartment closed.

Awakened by the ruckus, Grumpelstiltskin lifted his head with a bellowing yawn. His fur was mussier than usual, crushed and ruffled several times over after an unsuccessful attempt in finding the perfect place to sleep atop his blanket. Nevertheless, he otherwise remained unchanged from that morning: that being, he’d not moved his furry rump an inch from his space beside the stove in the several hours Karkat had been gone. Upon seeing his owner, his ears perked up, and he left the nest to pad clumsily across the tile floor. He snaked his body around Karkat’s legs and purred, nuzzling the khaki fabric with his deformed muzzle.

Careful to avoid falling over, Karkat pulled the half-baked can from his bag. Immediately, Grumpy bounced back, eyes lighting up as he kneaded the floor in anticipation. With a quick click, Karkat opened the can and deposited its contents in the nearby food bowl. Grumpy bolted for the mushy goop. It only took a few bites and rushed gulps for him to finish his discount dinner, and he turned to look at Karkat, bits of brown spittle coating his whiskers. A dopy, blissful expression on his face, Grumpelstiltskin edged closer and stood on his hind legs. He pressed his forepaws against Karkat’s legs, meowing loudly as he stared up at his owner with intent.

Well. Fuck. How was he supposed to stay mad when he had _that?_

Karkat’s gaze softened.

“Alright, alright,” he grumbled. “Get up here, you old fart.” He leaned down and scooped the grizzled furbeast in his arms. Mewling, Grumpy gave his nose a tentative lick.

“Ugh, god!” Karkat reeled back, holding the ever oblivious Grumpelstiltskin at length. “It smells like a fish up and died down there! You don’t even _eat_ fish, how the fuck does your breath embody rancid salmon?”

Grumpy offered no answer for his crimes beyond a pungent, rather putrid belch. Karkat’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re lucky you’re adorable, you know that?”

“Meow!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Shaking his head, Karkat brought him closer to his chest and allowed Grumpy access. The cat happily obliged by hauling himself atop his master’s shoulders, digging his claws into the sweater for purchase. Once fully stretched across, Grumpy buried his muzzle in thick brown curls and swept his tail across Karkat’s clavicle. Karkat readjusted his balance to accommodate the extra weight, spitting out stray hairs as the tail flicked past his mouth.

With that, Karkat continued forth with his chores. Every so often, he’d jerk too abruptly, earning a sharp nick in his neck for his trouble, but otherwise the pair had long ago mastered their balancing act. After shuttering the sofa bed closed, washing his sheets, and making his own bed, Karkat’s small hovel of an apartment looked less like the whirlwind Jade regularly left in her wake and more like—well, home.

“ _Finally,_ ” Karkat breathed, sinking into his computer chair. “I don’t know how Jade can leave such a mess every time she comes over! Dirt tracked across the floor, candy wrappers fucking _everywhere_. Can you believe this shit, Grumpy?”

Grumpelstiltskin, who had long since fallen asleep, simply snored.

“Exactly,” Karkat said. “Un-fucking-believable.”

In reality, Jade was by and large a tidy guest. Karkat, on the other hand, just happened to be a neat freak, one with a rather palpable penchant for being an asshole. A sanitary asshole, of course, but an asshole nonetheless.

 

 

The asshole in question decided he’d dicked around enough for one day though. Time to get to work and check if he had any freelance requests. Wheeling to his desk, Karkat flipped open the laptop nestled there and checked his email server. Numerous messages of varying relevance popped up, some interesting, most garbage, but…

Karkat tensed. The subject line was as unassuming as ever, a simple ‘Karkat’ sprawled across the screen in minute black text. He’d received dozens in the past of similar caliber. What distinguished it from all the others was the sender’s address, standing out like a severed sore thumb.

The lock of his jaw grew taut, teeth clenching painfully as he read over the email’s body. Every sentence, every _word_ , every single goddamn character made Karkat’s vision bleed red. White hot talons gripped his belly, stoking the flames bubbling within. He slammed his fist against the counter, startling Grumpy awake and nearly dislodging him from his perch.

“Are you fucking _kidding me?!_ ”

Karkat plucked his phone from his pocket, furiously swiping away Jade’s texts of safe return and thumbing numbers in quick succession. The ringback tone buzzed without urgency, each and every grating jingle pushing Karkat’s temper further over the edge. Finally, _finally_ , the line connected, scratchy clamors bustling in the background.

“Hello?”

“You gave him my email!” Karkat snarled. So much for preamble.

“I—” the voice paused, flabbergasted. “Karkat?”

“No, it’s Guy fucking Fieri. Who the hell else would it be, Kankri?”

“There’s no need to be so rude about it,” the voice—Kankri—said with a huff, obviously recovering from his initial shock. “And Karkat, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, please text your intentions prior to phoning my cell. It catches me off guard otherwise. I could be in the middle of doing something important, like studying, or working on homework. More than anything, it’s simply inconsiderate behavior, and I would have thought that you of all people would have been raised better to understand the insensitivity of such actions and how it can be misconstrued as—”

“Kankri,” Karkat moaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “On any day, _any_ other fucking day, I’d rather guzzle used cat litter than suffer whatever holier-than-thou bullshit you’re busy architecting in the confines of your narrow-minded ass. Today? Today I will choke down literal fucking dog shit before I listen to you prattle on about the ethics of a goddamn phone call. So do me a favor and please, _please_ , for the love of all that is fucking holy, hop off my dick and _shut the fuck up_.”

Silence. Then—

“Karkat, you really shouldn’t take the Lord’s name in vain—”

“NOPE! Bzzt, nada, no! We are not fucking having this conversation right now!”

“Well, what conversation _are_ we having?”

“How about the conversation where you explain why the FUCK you gave him my email address!” Karkat exploded.

The line all but went silent. Even the noises clamoring in the background seemed to have quieted.

“ _Well?_ ”

“I—Karkat, I know you’ve every right to be upset,” Kankri said, finally. “I violated your trust in revealing your safe space and appear to have triggered you in the process—”

“Oh for _fuck’s_ sake,” Karkat said, slapping his palm against his forehead. “Can it with that crap! You don’t even know what safe spaces _are_ , you pretentious prick. You just act like you do to sate your massive superiority complex!”

“Well, that’s highly uncalled for—”

“Uncalled for my ass!”

“As I was _saying_ —Karkat, you’re not being fair. You don’t know the full story.”

“ _I’m_ not being fair? I’m not the one who gave away private information!”

“He kept badgering me about it!” Kankri said, voice hedging dangerously on that of a whine.

“And you never reply when I forward his emails to you, which, quite frankly, puts me in a very difficult position.”

“Because it’s all about you, huh?” Karkat said with disgust.

“Karkat, be reasonable. You know what I meant.”

“No, I don’t! I really fucking don’t!” Karkat said. Eyes shut tight, he fisted the roots of his hair. Grumpy had long since abandoned his roost atop his shoulders, finding refuge under the desk. He mewled anxiously as Karkat ripped several strands free. “I asked you two years ago to do one thing, just _one_ fucking thing. Keep my personal details out of that bastard’s hands. And what do you do? Hand out my email like you’re the goddamn postman of digital fuck yous!”

“While I understand your rationale and even to a certain extent agree with you, there’s still no reason to disrespect him like that—”

“I don’t owe that jackass jack _shit!_ ” Karkat snapped. “I don’t know how to get this through to you! Just because he’s our father doesn’t mean he’s entitled to know anything about my life.”

A pause.

“I just think you might feel better if you made amends,” Kankri said quietly. “As your brother—”

“—as my _younger_ brother, it doesn’t give you _any_ goddamn right to decide what’s ‘best’ for me,” Karkat hissed. “Fuck, I should’ve listened to my gut when I decided to get in touch with you again. Way to go past me, look where your empathy’s gotten you now!”

“You would have just let us assume you were dead?” Kankri asked, incredulous. “I know your relationship with him is troubled, downright problematic if I dare say so myself, but come now. Even you must admit that’s pushing the envelope too far.”

“Christ in a fucking side car,” Karkat muttered, digging errant fingers through his hair. “Don’t try to guilt me here, Kankri. Only you would assume the worst. But, you know what, sure. Why not! Obviously, I was _way_ better off keeping your inconsiderate ass out of my business, so why not let you both think I was enjoying a nice, relaxing, prolonged mud wrap six feet under? God fucking knows it would’ve saved me the metric shit ton of trouble you’ve dropped at my feet today!”

“Karkat, I told you, he wouldn’t stop asking until I gave him your information! He wouldn’t leave me alone until I gave him your email and—” Kankri abruptly broke off. Karkat blinked, brow arching.

“And?” Karkat prompted. “And _what?_ ”

“Nothing,” Kankri said, rushed. Karkat’s eyes narrowed.

Well. That wasn’t fucking suspicious at all.

“Kankri, what are you talking about? What is fucking _‘and’?”_

“I—um, well. You see—”

“…Wait a minute,” Karkat said slowly, eyes widening. A horrifying realization dawned upon him. “You didn’t… Kankri, tell me you didn’t give him my actual address. Please, for the love of fucking god, tell me you didn’t tell him where I _live_.”

Kankri’s silence was all but deafening.

“God _dammit_ Kankri, when will you learn to _leave me the fuck alone?!_ ” He thumbed the disconnect button and flung the phone across the room, landing in a heap of bed sheets. Panting, Karkat’s jaw was left ajar as he struggled to regain breath. Grumpy peaked out from under his hiding place and meowed, but Karkat paid him little mind.

The little shit had told _him_ where he lived! After Kankri had watched the whole shit show play out for _years!_ How could he have just—

The phone buzzed, interrupting his thoughts. He groaned. And then it buzzed again. And again. And _again_. Karkat threw his arms up in defeat and pushed the chair back, wheeling across the floor until he came to a stop by the bed. Grabbing the phone, he looked over the sprawling text Kankri couldn’t help but vomit all over his screen.

**Karkat, I swear I didn’t mean t9 hurt y9u. I am just c9ncerned. I didn’t give him y9ur exact address, 6ut I did say y9u n9w live in H9ust9n. I’m s9rry if y9u feel triggered by this. As y9ur 9nly si6ling, I just wanted to l99k 9ut f9r y9u—**

The message went on and on, a flurry of bright red text enough to give _Paradise Lost_ a literary ulcer. Scowling, Karkat flipped the phone over again and shoved it under his pillow.

He clenched his fists. Then unclenched, and clenched again. His shoulders were raised, arms drawn taut against his sides. Karkat growled.

He stood up without warning, nearly sending the chair flying in his haste. Glowing eyes wide, Grumpy watched as he stomped off toward the kitchen, making a beeline for the cabinets below the sink. Grunting, Karkat dropped to his knees to reach the handle, and pulled it free with far more force than necessary. Out tumbled a spray bottle and some Lysol wipes, to which Karkat put to immediate use as he pulled back and began washing the counter.

Cleaning helped ease Karakt’s stress levels. Usually, anyways. He was an aggressive Mr. Clean for all practical purposes, wiping away muck and grime from every nook and cranny possible as he screamed obscenities into the void. But today, the mindless task wasn’t working. Kankri’s words echoed in the back of his mind, just as his father’s email inscribed itself in the forefront of his brain. They were caught in an endless shouting match with himself wedged between, a never-ending symphony of raucous reprimands that left his head throbbing and screaming for relief.

_You shouldn’t have left, he’ll find you, he’ll judge you, he’ll—_

“Augh, dammit!” Karkat said, finally snapping. He threw the cloth to the ground with a huff. Fuck this, fuck that, fuck _him_. Straightening, he stomped back to his room and sank into his chair, all but melting into the polyester fabric.

This was getting him nowhere.

Negative thoughts continued to indulge their mariachi band in his skull, and Karkat was just about ready to flip a biscuit into the goddamn stratosphere if he didn’t put a stop to their parade.

He needed something else. Something to distract him, something to _do_.

…some _one_ to vent his frustrations on.

Wordlessly, Karkat drew his eyes to the monitor and reached for the mouse. Several clicks later, he found himself staring down a familiar Twitter feed—his own, in fact. Cats of all shapes and sizes littered it, but. Yeah, no. ‘Cute’ was not doing it for Karkat right now. The fiery rage fueling the furnace inside his chest still burned without respite, forsaking anything that went without indulging its flames, and. Well.

Karkat never claimed to make the smartest decisions when he was mad.

Was this a dumb idea? Possibly. Should Karkat have known better than to stick his fat head in places where it didn’t belong? Probably. Did he do it anyways?

Of fucking course.

Karkat typed @turntechgh into the search bar and pressed enter.

 

* * *

 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> katt: chapter 4 aka Karkat Is Going To Regret Everything
> 
> Possk: As a note--the ending argument is not something we take lightly, nor will Dave. This isn't going to be an abuse apologetic fic by any stretch of the imagination. Idea is to play with the concept of online disinhibition effect and making debilitating assumptions about others despite knowing absolute jack about them. What kind of horrible consequences can roll into play when you judge someone without knowing them, how people can let loose their frustrations on these pseudo-strangers through an online platform. The Twitter argument is supposed to be uncomfortable, it's supposed to feel like a slap in the face. So don't worry--we're not justifying any awful shit, we're making sure the characters will know _exactly_ how they fucked up and working to become better people after that realization. Tragicomedies hurt like hell because one moment it'll be hilarious then the next you'll be lying on the floor nursing a thorough gut punch.
> 
> In unrelated news, Grumpy is adorable and I love him god bless


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> katt: this is sort of a mini-chapter, and also completely courtesy of Jay. flashback to a few years prior to this story. We'll have a full chapter up ASAP, this segment just got longer than expected and works well enough on its own anyway! also: gamzee's not, uh, gonna be a regular character, this is kinda his only appearance that we have currently planned
> 
> Possk: Karkat is a vulgar, vulgar child and I absolutely adore him for it

Karkat had never appreciated cleanliness before he’d met Gamzee.

Oh, sure. Karkat had always held a  _ partiality _ toward hygiene. He showered daily, of course. Brushed his teeth. Clipped his nails. Washed his hands with every bathroom venture like a normal goddamn person because what kind of filthy heathen  _ doesn’t _ after gladly fondling their rectum with a Kleenex for forty-five minutes. Karkat even attempted to tame the disaster area that was his hair, breaking more than a few combs in the process.

And then he’d entered Gamzee’s apartment. And then that fondness evolved into desperation.

To call Gamzee’s apartment a rat’s nest was an insult to rats. Considering that Karkat later  _ found  _ the creatures pawing around the mess, he knew this with absolute goddamn certainty—at least _ they _ knew what ‘personal hygiene’ entailed. To be sure, rodents deserved far better than to be compared to the man cave Gamzee so graciously considered ‘home.’

The purple plaster decorating his walls was chipped, peeling, and covered in ugly harlequins, but oh, that was  _ far _ from Karkat’s only concern. Every square inch of space was covered by several more inches of garbage. Receipts, paper, cardboard, plastic, bags, absolutely nothing was spared in Gamzee’s forlorn quest to accumulate as much junk as his landlord’s nostrils would tolerate. Long forgotten fast food lay rotting on the floor, emitting a stench so foul that Karkat regularly choked on the bile threatening to escape his esophagus. That too sullied the carpet from times when Gamzee had upchucked his Faygo and never bothered to clear away the stains.

Worst of all were the UFFs, the Unidentified Foreign Fluids. They appeared every other week athwart the couch, each stain more bizarrely oriented than the last. He prayed it was just mayonnaise.

It wasn’t mayonnaise.

Karkat had often wondered how Gamzee could survive that Chernobyl hell for so long. It would’ve killed lesser men, or at least left them with a series of suspicious rectal tumors. But, then again, Karkat was not entirely certain Gamzee was fully human. At this point, Karkat would not be surprised to hear if Gamzee was a tardigrade made flesh. He could survive just about anything, even the nuclear apocalypse, so long as he had a bong on hand.

But Karkat?

Karkat didn’t realize how much he could miss sanitation after living in a literal biohazard for five months.

Still, it was something. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all, and Karkat had always been well-aware of the fact that hopping a bus from Fuckin’ Nowhere, Louisiana to a Texan metropolis would have strings attached. Gamzee had at least afforded him a place to stay while he hoarded enough pennies to eventually nab his own apartment, and he’d always be grateful for that. Even if it did nearly obliterate his olfactory system in the process.

One night after a particularly arduous shift packaging enough belts, zippers, and dildos to start his own bondage convention, Karkat wearily opened the door and trudged across the threshold. Not even pausing to worry about the alleged ‘mayonnaise’ stains, he collapsed on the couch and smothered his face in its cheap upholstery. He then proceeded to groan. Loudly. After a good 30 seconds or so, it mutated into a shrill shriek and many, many muffled curses.

Five minutes later, Karkat finally fell silent.

Seemingly unperturbed, the only witness to these histrionics lay adjacent to the sofa.

Long, lanky, and gangly, the man looked as if Bozo the Clown been run through a medieval rack and then some. With the grace of a prepubescent girl anticipating her first dance, off-white makeup was smeared liberally across his face with a splash zone radius of two to three feet—which, incidentally, included his feet. Surprisingly to anyone with functioning eardrums, he wasn’t bothered by his roommate’s fit of rage. He didn’t even seem to acknowledge it beyond an errant twitch of his wrist. He just waved lazily from his makeshift cardboard recliner, bong precariously flitted between his fingers as he peered up at the ceiling with wide, glassy eyes.

It was testament to how frequent the ‘Karkat Comes Home and Screams a Lot’ ritual had become that Gamzee didn’t even bother to break his staring contest with the asbestos drywall.

“What the motherfuck is up, best friend?” he asked.

Karkat grumbled into the couch.

“What’s that, my brother? Gonna have to get your motherfuckin’ talk on.”

“What I SAID,” Karkat growled, pushing himself up and away from the upholstery’s embrace, “was that capitalism sucks! Reaganomics suck! Everybody fucking SUCKS, okay?! Jeff Bezo’s a goddamn billionaire, he’s practically swimming in gold! He’s chugging champagne and tequila ley on the beaches of Seychelles with enough oral gymnastics to galvanize porn stars, while  _ I _ bust my ass for basic minimum wage. That ostentatious crotch blister could end poverty in this country and he’d barely miss a dime, but no! He can’t be fucking bothered, he’s too busy thrusting the grotesquely distended genital wart he calls a penis straight up our collective asses! And oh ho  _ ho _ , forget about health insurance. Kiss that naïve thought goodbye and kick it down a mineshaft before you get too attached for all the fucking good it does.” His fists found roost in his hair, yanking at the roots.

“Goddammit! I hate this job, I hate the people I work with, and most of all I hate Amazon! This is by far the worst job I’ve ever tortured my miserable excuse for an existence with. And I swear to fucking Christ, if my manager doesn’t hop off my dick, I’m going to take all those boxes and Prime™ deliver his fat ass an impromptu colonoscopy. Hell, he can’t afford health insurance either, so we both fucking win!”

“A-motherfuckin’-men to that, dude,” Gamzee said, lifting his arm in sluggish solidarity. “But, uh, while that shit was real fuckin’ inspiring and all, you may wanna hop on down and get your chill on. You’re gonna hurt yourself up there.”

Only then did Karkat realize he was standing atop a couch teetering dangerously sideways. And remember that he had a rather acute fear of heights. Oh. Well, shit. Flushing, he plopped back down.

“Either way, my point still stands!” Karkat said, crossing his arms with a pout. “Washington may have bailed out the economy, but those assholes still have a critical recession in the giving a fuck department for just about anyone but themselves.”

“Your company makes a motherfucker wanna motherfuckin’ give up on miracles, yo,” Gamzee agreed, shaking his head sadly. “And that’s just about the worst thing a motherfucker could ever do.”

“As much as your abominably stupid overuse of the word ‘motherfucker’ makes me want to plug electrical forks into my ears, you’re damn right I’m right. And  _ that’s _ the smartest thing I’ve heard all day.” Karkat sighed and laid down on the couch, dragging his palms over his face. “Ugh, I wish I didn’t have to work these shithole jobs just to make ends meet.”

Gamzee pushed himself up from his cardboard nest and rested his arms on the couch near Karkat’s head. His brows furrowed as thoughts attempted to claw their way through the drug addled fog clogging his mind. And then—suddenly, his brain cells found traction.

“You know what you need, bro?” Gamzee asked, straightening. “You need a good motherfuckin’ story to cheer you up.”

“Gamzee,” Karkat moaned, “that is the absolute _ last _ thing I need. It’s so far down the list on things I need that it’s sitting at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. The Marina Trench has jack shit on that list.”

“Naw bro, hear me out,” Gamzee insisted, giving his shoulder a nudge. “You need to crack open some of that sweet, sweet Faygo and listen to this mirthful shit I’m laying down. Let a motherfucker help out another motherfucker, you know?”

Gamzee poked Karkat’s cheek, earning a loud groan for his efforts. He poked it again. The groaning intensified, now coupled with a few half-hearted swats to bat him away. Gamzee only continued.

Poke.

Poke, poke.

Poke, poke, poke, poke, po—

“BAH, fine! Fine, fine,  _ fine _ , I’ll listen, just leave me alone you infantile horse’s ass!”

“Aw HELL yes, that’s what I’m motherfuckin’ talking about!” Gamzee laughed, clapping his hands together.

“But I’m not touching that carbonated hell of hydrofluoric acid!” Karkat barked. “I’ve got enough problems to deal with without having to drink whatever liquid cancer is leaking downstream from Detroit.”

“Suit yourself bro, more for me then.” Gamzee shrugged. “But right, right, let me set the scene for you. Picture, like. Uh, fuck. Two or three years ago now? There was this kid, right? A real cool motherfucker. His name was, uh. Rave Ryder? No, shit. Um. Spade…Schneider? Wait.”

“Gamzee, if this is another one of your fever dreams, I swear to fucking  _ god _ —”

“No, no! I got my remember on now, uh—Dave Strider, yeah. That’s it, that’s his name.”

“Dave Strider?” Karkat asked, brows furrowing. “Is that the same shit eating asswipe that Jade was talking about the other week?”

“Heh, probably,” Gamze snorted. “That chill motherfucker was always doing wicked crazy shit. He used to hang around me and the others all the time back in school. Infected us with some real tenacious cases of motherfuckin’ mirth up in there whenever he got an idea in his head and kicked the shit outta some righteous harshwhimsy, y’know? Probably kicked the shit outta some hella salacious venereal mirth too, come to think of it. That brother was a motherfuckin’ triathlon champion for how much he cycled around school. I mean, I never took a ride with the dude myself, but a motherfucker’s gotta be real here. If he’d asked to pray at my altar of miracles, I wouldn’t have said no—”

“GAMZEE!” Karkat said, snapping his fingers. “I do  _ not _ and never  _ will _ need to know the excruciatingly explicit details of the shriveled shrimp nugget of fuck Dave’s pawning off as his dick! Now can we  _ please _ move this staggeringly stupid sock puppet of a story along before my stomach graciously contributes to the gastric waste dump that is your carpet!”

“What? Oh, right. Sorry bro,” Gamzee said. “Kind of zoned out there for a minute. The possibilities…” Karkat plunged his face in-between couch cushions and screeched. “But back to what I was saying. Just, this brother was unreal with all the sicknasty shit he pulled, and that ain’t nothing compared to the strict deets I’m about to throw down. Like, damn dog, he had his magnum motherfuckin’ opus my sixth year.

“There was, uh, this teacher in high school, right? A real hard ass motherfucker that whipped our shit every detention. But one day, Hyde got some hella righteous comeuppance, man. Dave Strider was in the wicked  _ zone _ , it was a miracle in action. Legit, that clever motherfucker somehow managed to steal a goat or some other caprine vertebrother from the zoo and set him loose in Hyde’s office before school. Shit was fuckin’ everywhere, you get me? Had a damn good time getting his grub on with all those papers and chairs, haha. Pissed all over the floor too. Hyde’s face was motherfuckin’ priceless, bro!” Gamzee snickered, clapping a palm to his mouth. “When he cracked open that door, oh  _ man _ . Screamed his ass off for a whole hour in assembly! Dave didn’t even get caught, Hyde searched for that righteous motherfucker for months before he finally gave up the motherfuckin’ ghost. Shit was wild, my dude. And damn, then there was the time—”

As Gamzee continued his spiel, blithering on about whatever nonsensical bullshit came to mind, he remained blissfully unaware of the steaming geyser lying in wait beside him. And oh ho  _ ho _ , was ye old Faithful living up to its name. Flushed, visibly shaking, and about ready to tear the universe a throbbing new anus, Karkat hopped to his feet and Yelled™.

It should be noted that there is a distinct difference between Karkat yelling and Karkat Yelling™. One reflected a more or less natural vocalization of frustration, distinguishable only in its excessive obnoxiousness from the average Joe on the block. Karkat Yelling™, quite conversely, was a thunderous, high-pitched caterwaul that threatened to overtake standard levels of audible frequency and deafen anyone within range. 

“WHAT KIND OF—WHAT A—JESUS TAPDANCING CHRIST,” Karkat screeched, stomping his feet and shaking Gamzee from his reverie. “DISGUSTING! I’M FUCKING DISGUSTED! MY STOMACH IS LITERALLY PUKING ITS PROVERBIAL GUTS OUT AND DROWNING THE REST OF MY INTERNAL ORGANS IN ACIDIC RAGE! RIGHT NOW I COULD TAKE A PISS AND BOIL SOLID FUCKING STEEL ON ACCOUNT OF HOW SICKENING I FIND THAT CHOKING HAZARD OF A HUMAN BEING!”

Gamzee opened his mouth to protest, but Karkat threw his hand out and shook his head sharply.

“NO, no no no no  _ no! _ Gamzee, you don’t fucking GET it! I’ve HAD that job! Cleaning up after snotty brats’ diarrhea clogged toilets and hoping like fuck that your latex gloves are as thick as Protex claims! Praying that the liquid soaking the floors is just really oily water from the tap! I may hate working as Amazon’s cardboard whipping boy, but janitor duty is just one disgusting feculent shit stain after another, working for just as shitty, damn well reprehensible ingrates! Like excuse me as I interrupt one trumped up circus of stupidity to host my own self-flagellating pity party, but honestly! It fucking  _ sucks, _ and he only made their lives harder just so he could play a stupid prank!

“Like _hmm,_ I’m going to go out on a limb here and presume that braindead jackass _didn’t_ help clean up the mess he left behind. Right? Of course I’m right, I don’t even have to fucking ask. I’ve seen his type before, the ‘cool kid’ who think he’s hot shit and can get away with whatever he wants. It’s goddamn well revolting. Because do you know who _did_ clean up after him? The unlucky bastards in navy jumpsuits stuck on duty that day! They probably worked overtime scrubbing away goat dung and got ZERO thanks for it. It’s just—so—ARGH!”

Karkat threw his arms in the air and howled one final defiant shriek. Chest heaving, he then fell back onto the couch. The last of his energy now spent, he seemed to deflate entirely.

“Oh, jeez,” Gamzee said, once he was quite sure Karkat was done. “When you put it like that, I guess that’s pretty motherfuckin’ sick, and not in the good way. I’m sorry bro, I was just trying to cheer you up.”

“It’s alright, Gamzee,” Karkat sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “As insufferably short-sighted as it was, I still appreciate the thought.”

“Yeah, I feel you brother,” Gamzee nodded. “How about we just serve up some good mothefuckin’ grub and forget about all this stuff?” Without pausing to hear Karkat’s answer, he lumbered clumsily to his feet and shuffled toward the kitchen. “I’ll make it up to you by serving up the best motherfuckin’ pie I can. Nobody knows ‘baking’ better than I do, haha!”

“Gamzee, we don’t even have ingredients for— _ Gamzee _ , you goddamn idiot, you can’t cook with a plunger! Gamzee!”

Although his breathing was returning to normal and he now had a culinary catastrophe to micromanage, Karkat’s skin still burned with indignation as he stood up and followed Gamzee. Just. _ Argh _ . What an absolute prick! Jade sure knew how to pick the worst, most toxic raging dumpster fires she could as friends, with Karkat reigning as Supreme Lord Douchecanoe and Dave now trailing shortly behind him.

Ugh. If Karkat had it  _ his _ way, he’d never talk to Dave ‘motherfucking’ Strider for as long as he lived.

Beyond one disastrous failure of a movie night his so-called ‘friends’ roped him into, that promise had otherwise held true. It lasted approximately two years, nine months, and twelve positively glorious days before destiny decided to mosey on into his life and pull down her knickers, depositing one piping hot pile of rancid festering shit directly atop his doorstep.

Because  _ of course _ .

 


	6. Chapter 6

Dave…had blocked him. He had actually _blocked_ him. Dave never blocked _anyone_. No amount of trolling, heckling, or harassment had ever pushed Dave to block anyone—at least, not to Karkat’s admittedly limited knowledge.

So. That meant…

Karkat had won.

Karkat had _won_.

Hot diggity shit.

The first day, Karkat was over the literal fucking moon. He’d done it! He’d _finally_ beaten that juvenile jackass at his own game. Karkat celebrated that evening with a tub of ice cream he’d dug out of the freezer and a good old fashioned romcom marathon. Grumpy had been only too eager to join in on the fun, laying atop his owner’s lap without a care in the world as Leonardo DiCaprio sank to his watery grave across the table.

By the second day, Karkat’s smirk grew even wider, stretching from ear to ear. A quick check online and—hah! He was _still_ blocked! That would show Dave a thing or two! Karkat couldn’t help but snicker to himself throughout the afternoon, clapping a palm to his mouth every so often to bite down on the restless giggles filling his chest. This earned more than a few disquieted stares from innocent bystanders, who wondered if a five foot two serial killer now shopped at their local supermarket.

Forget the cat who got the cream, this smug asshole was knee deep in saturated butterfat lactated straight from the Laughing Cow’s undulant udders.

Karkat was a certified troll _god_. Read it and fucking weep, Strider!

By the fifth day, however, Karkat’s grin began to waver.

He was _still_ blocked—a record now long surpassing Karkat’s usual 48+ hour tradition. Was Dave so full of himself that he couldn’t take what he dished out? Fuck, was he _really_ going to act like a pissy crybaby too busy pooping his diapers to unblock him?

By the week’s end, Karkat’s smile had soured into a frown.

Whatever sentient pool of ass vomit Dave had emerged from two decades prior had apparently left him without a goddamn spine. Christ, at this point, it was a medical miracle the prick could stand upright all. The realization left Karkat increasingly frustrated, an anger bubbling just below the surface of his skin for days, until he finally snapped. Plucking his phone from his pocket, Karkat began to type furiously.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering  gardenGnostic [GG]  
  
CG: JADE!  
CG: JADE!!! ARE YOU THERE?  
CG: DAMMIT JADE, I NEED TO TALK TO YOU!  
CG: WAIT.  
CG: UH, ACTUALLY THAT SOUNDS A LOT MORE FUCKING URGENT THAN THIS RAMBLING STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS WARRANTS. HANG ON, LET ME DIAL BACK THE DESPERATION THERE.  
CG: CORRECTION: I *WANT* TO TALK TO YOU. VERY MUCH. LIKE, NOW. LIKE RIGHT FUCKING NOW IF YOU CAN MANAGE IT.  
CG: BETTER? BETTER. I GUESS. WHAT THE FUCK EVER.  
CG: GODDAMMIT WOMAN, WHERE ARE YOU??  
CG: PUT DOWN THE PICKAXE AND REPLACE IT WITH A PHONE ALREADY! I KNOW YOU’VE GOT LIKE FIVE ON YOU, NOW PUT ONE TO USE RIGHT THIS BLOOD SHITTING SECOND AND ANSWER ME!!!  
GG: wow jeez, impatient much!!  
CG: THERE YOU ARE! TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH, JESUS H. G. W. CHRIST.  
CG: I’D BEGUN TO WONDER IF I NEEDED TO FILE A MISSING PERSON’S REPORT.  
GG: karkat, im at the site! you know im too busy to respond right away! >:(  
CG: YEAH, YEAH.  
CG: SAYS THE ONLY PERSON ALIVE WHO ACTUALLY WEARS AND USES GOOGLE GLASSES ON A DAILY BASIS.  
CG: I KNOW YOU SAW MY MESSAGES, DON’T BULLSHIT ME!  
GG: blugh!!!  
GG: okay, fine! i saw them!! jeeze louise  
CG: HAH, I KNEW IT!  
GG: you know, you and dave are both way more alike than either of you would ever admit :P  
GG: youre both so impatient!  
CG: CANNOT. *BELIEVE* THIS.  
CG: ME, SIMILAR TO DAVE? LIES AND FUCKING SLANDER, HARLEY!   
CG: WE ARE SO INCOMPARABLE THAT THE MERE NOTION OF ASSOCIATION WITH HIS DISGUSTING TABULAR ASS TICKLES MY UVULA AND KICKS MY ACID REFLUX INTO HIGH FUCKING OVERDRIVE!  
GG: oh really???  
GG: it seems neither of you know how to hold your horses and wait for a girl to finish exhuming a few bones!!!  
GG: i cant just drop everything to shoot the shit with you!  
CG: WHY, LOOK, JADE! PICTURE IT: ME, CARESSING SIX POUNDS WORTH OF FIRE RESISTANT STEEL, PACKED WITH ENOUGH SHELLS TO MAKE ANY REDNECK WITHIN A FIFTY MILE RADIUS ORGASM INTO THEIR OVERALLS. AND YET? LO AND BEHOLD, THERE IS NO SHIT! NO AMOUNT OF DUNG, EXCREMENT, OR FECES TO BE SEEN NEARBY. MY GOD, THERE’S NOT EVEN A SINGLE GODDAMN COW PIE. I LIVE IN TEXAS, JADE. FUCKING TEXAS! THERE’S ALWAYS COW PIES AROUND. IT’S LIKE THE WORLD’S SHITTIEST UNIVERSAL CONSTANT—BOTH LITERALLY AND METAPHORICALLY SPEAKING.  
CG: BUT NOT TODAY. TODAY, THE CATTLE’S GONE ON STRIKE. MY SLUGS ARE LONELY BECAUSE THERE IS LITERALLY ZERO SHIT TO SHOOT.  
GG: uuuuhhhhhhh…  
CG: I’M SAYING I’M NOT HERE TO SHOOT THE SHIT, I’M HERE TO SHOOT OFF A GODDAMN TIRADE!  
GG: oh for fucks sake  
CG: JADE, THAT SELF-ABSORBED CROTCH PUSTULE YOU CALL A FRIEND REFUSES TO UNBLOCK ME! HE’S EITHER FALLEN INTO AN IDIOT COMA SO DEEP THE DOCTORS ARE THREATENING TO PULL THE PLUG, OR HE’S BEING A SNOTTY LITTLE BRAT ABOUT FINALLY BEING ONE-UPPED FOR ONCE IN HIS LIFE.  
CG: AT THIS POINT, I’M NOT SURE WHICH IS WORSE!  
GG: hoo boy well  
GG: im still shocked you actually managed to get him to block you, honestly! he never blocks anyone. but i mean  
GG: karkat, havent you blocked him before? like a lot??  
CG: SEE JADE, WE’RE GOING TO TAKE THAT POINT, KINDLY DIRECT IT TO AN ORPHANAGE, AND ABANDON IT ON THE STEPS WHERE WE’LL NEVER SPEAK OF IT AGAIN.  
GG: sooooo youre saying you have  
CG: JADE, YOU’RE SETTING THE ORPHANAGE ON FIRE.  
GG: >:(  
CG: DON’T LOOK AT ME WITH THOSE EYES!!  
GG: >8(  
CG: ARGH!  
GG: heheh!  
GG: seriously though, you mustve really gotten under his skin if hes blocked you! im not sure what you said but at this point i know i dont want the headache -__-  
CG: I JUST GAVE HIM A TASTE OF HIS OWN MEDICINE! HE DESERVED IT!  
GG: nope, nada, zilch, nuh-uh! dont wanna hear it karkat!  
GG: ive got enough problems as is with the dig, i dont need to deal with two of my best friends acting like absolute fuckasses at the same time  
GG: so heres an idea: join me when i hop on my weekly skype call with dave, where both of you will behave like actual civilized adults. that way, you can sort out whatever issue you have and give poor old jade a break, huh??  
CG: BUT  
GG: karkat!  
CG: UGH, FINE. FINE, FINE, FINE! IF IT’LL STOP HIM FROM ACTING LIKE A PETULANT CRYBABY, I’LL DO IT.  
GG: good! there, was that so hard?  
CG: EXTREMELY.  
GG: well too bad :P  
GG: starting now, unless its an emergency, i dont want to hear another peep out of you until tomorrow at 5! no ifs ands or buts!  
CG: SURE, WHATEVER.  
GG: shut the fuck up!!!!  
CG: WOW, WHAT THE FUCK JADE????  
GG: i said starting *now* karkat! bye :D  
CG: UH, BYE I GUESS???  
GG: WHAT DID I JUST SAY???  
  
gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering  carcinoGeneticist [CG]

 

 

* * *

 

The following day rolled by without further incident. Karkat hopped on Skype at 4:45, well-supplied with a mouth full of yelling and an arsenal of unaired grievances in tow. Jade arrived about ten minutes later. She promptly jumpstarted the video call, promising to add Dave once he was online. With that, they made small talk, waiting out the clock until the man himself decided to grace them with his _oh_ so esteemed presence.

However, said clock continued to tick past 5:00. Eyeing the time, Karkat arched his brow in question, to which Jade only shrugged. It then passed 5:10, 5:30, 5:45. 6:00. 6:15.

“Is he _ever_ going to show up?” Karkat groused by 6:30. Across the screen, Jade worried her lip. She’d been worrying it for the past twenty minutes, and if she kept it up, Karkat was quite convinced her buck teeth would wear a hole in it before the night was over.

“This isn’t like him,” she said. “He usually lets me know if he’ll be late or if he can’t make it.” Frowning, Jade took out her phone and messaged Dave again. When she inevitably got no response, she sighed and put it back down. “I hope he’s okay.”

“Listen, I’m sure he’s just fucking peachy, Harley.” Karkat waved his hand in nonchalance. “He probably forgot what time it was on account of going blind from wearing those stupid shades 24/7. That douchebag wouldn’t know punctuality if it bit him on the dick and gave him chlamydia!”

“Oh, hush,” Jade tutted. “Besides, it takes a douchebag to know a douchebag. And you’re the douchiest of crabby crabs who ever douched a big douchey crab!” She stuck out her tongue and pulled down her eyelid, earning an indignant squawk and a long series of mashing keys.

“He’s wasted our evening!” Karkat said with a snort. “We’re stuck sitting on our asses because his won’t show up!”

“Hmmmm, what’s that, Karkat? I can’t hear you well over the whining. Here, it sounds like this: bluh, bluh, bluh!”

They continued to bicker for the next hour, sharing jibes and cracks like used trading cards. By the time 7:40 rolled around, though, even Jade was ready to admit defeat.

“Maybe we should just move our call to next Friday,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry for wasting your time—I swear he’s usually not like this!”

“Much as I would love to take your word for it, Jade, I can’t say I believe you on that note,” Karkat replied flatly. “Still, don’t worry, I didn’t have anything to do tonight.”

“Oh, really? No big dates planned, hm?” Jade said, smirking. “I thought you were gonna take Grumpy somewhere nice soon!” Hearing his name from the crackling screen, Grumpelstiltskin lifted his head and meowed sleepily.

“Well, for _your_ information, Miss Nosy, I’ve planned a lovely afternoon for two at Madame PawPurri’s next week. And—” Karkat broke off as Jade, eyes wide, suddenly raised her hand and started waving him off.

“Ah, finally! He’s here!” Jade said. “Tell me about your furball date later, let me put him on!”

“Oh, great,” Karkat groaned, melting back into his chair. “Sure, fuck it, fine. Whatever. Put him on.”

With a click of a button, Dave’s webcam blinked online. The image was fuzzy, stuttering over a few frames at first, but it quickly streamlined as Dave’s equally fuzzy chin came into view.

“Hey,” was all he said.

“Dave, there you are!” Jade clasped her hands together with a resounding clap. “Finally!”

“Yeah, sorry, shit,” Dave groaned. “I know you wanted us to, uh, have a big talk and make up or whatever, which for the record is not happening and I’m just gonna pretend that this conversation’s between you and me”—Karkat snorted at that—“mostly because I can’t be on for long, uh.”

Karkat started to spit out a biting reply, about to criticize how _clearly_ Dave had avoided this purely because he couldn’t handle getting so thoroughly _owned_ for once…but stopped short upon actually getting a good look at Dave’s face.

His trademark shades were gone, replaced with serious lines of exhaustion and fatigue. His hair, normally a bird’s nest in of itself, was more tousled than usual, and he looked stretched thin. Ashen, almost, and even his freckles seemed to wilt against the sallow skin. Heaving a deep sigh, Dave pulled his hands down his face for a moment.

“I mean, I was gonna, like, hold up a shitty doodle of my middle finger for the whole chat, or something like that, I guess?” he said with a half-hearted shrug. “It was fuckin’ hilarious in my head, but, shit happens, you know?”

Karkat sat back in his chair, taking in the scene as Jade spoke up, scowling slightly.

“Should’ve figured you’d do something like that, I guess. Still, not calling was pretty uncool, Dave!” With a frown, Jade put her hands on her hips and leaned into the camera. “I was really worried something had happened!”

“Wellllll, you’re not wrong, there,” Dave muttered, rubbing his neck absentmindedly.

“Where were you?” she continued. “Did work run late or something?”

“Nah, I actually left work early, on account of havin’ to run to the children’s hospital, which is where I’ve been all day. It is not easy to get in if you don’t have a fuckin’ appointment, let me tell you.”

“Oh, no! Why were you there?!” Jade furrowed her brows with concern. Despite himself, Karkat couldn’t help but lean forward too.

Another deep sigh. “Because—” Dave started, but got interrupted by what might’ve been the sound of a door swinging open, and something else that Karkat didn’t quite catch, but whatever it was, it was off to Dave’s side, out of view of the webcam. It evidently captured Dave’s attention for the moment as he turned his head and leaned back to better address the newcomer. “What’s up, little man? You’re supposed to be in bed, dude.”

The small sound again—Karkat couldn’t make out the words, but it was definitely a very small, very tired voice.

“You sure?” Dave said, turning a bit in his chair, his gaze indicating that the other speaker must be getting closer. “I’m talkin’ to Jade for a bit, not gonna be super interesting.”

“Don’t care,” said the tiny voice, followed by an even tinier pair of hands being thrust up, just barely visible over the surface of Dave’s desk. Dave shot Jade a look of what Karkat could only describe as exasperated affection—a nonverbal “can you believe this shit,” but dripping with a heartfelt warmth that convinced Karkat to stay quiet a bit longer.

“Alright, alright,” Dave said, picking up a small child wrapped in an orange blanket and settling him on his lap. “But you really do gotta go to bed soon, you’re sick.”

“Mmph,” the little boy said, leaning his head against Dave’s arm. Face flushed and feverish, his hair clung to his temples in sweaty clumps. With a glance, Karkat noticed his half-lidded eyes were just as tired as Dave’s.

“Anyway, uh, back to your question, it’s actually thanks to Half-Pint here,” and he said the nickname with so much of the same warmth that lingered in the look he’d given Jade that it couldn’t possibly be seen as any sort of insult, “that I’m so late. He, uh.” Dave ran a hand through his hair, looked up at the ceiling, and exhaled again. “He was sorta snippy at me all day, and I thought it was weird but, whatever, right? He’s grouchy, whatever. Only, about an hour before my shift was done, he said he didn’t feel good. Couldn’t say why, just that it was bad, y’know?”

Jade was twisting her hair through her fingers, clearly a bit anxious. “Uh-oh! Poor Dirk!”

The toddler—Dirk, apparently—stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry, snuggling the blankets tighter around himself.

“Yeah, yeah, and, like. I checked his forehead, and he’s burning up. Found a gnarly-lookin’ rash all over his chest, too, and it’s right about that point that I remember seein’ people talk about how, like, measles and shit are back because of people not gettin’ their kids their shots, so I start panicking. It’s, uh, not measles, though,” he said, managing to cut Jade off from a no doubt very worried disruption. “It’s just strep throat, thank God. Kinda weird, since he says his throat feels fine, but apparently that’s normal? Like, strep’s just got some scary-lookin’ symptoms. Doc thinks he probably picked it up from a coworker who didn’t know they had it—"

“Bro, you said a bad word,” the blanketed toddler said.

Dave raised an eyebrow. “What? No I didn’t.”

“It was back a bit.”

Dave looked up toward the ceiling again, thinking for a minute, and then sighed. “Ah, dang, you’re right, I totally did. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“S’okay. I’ll let it slide.” Dirk sniffled, nestling back further against Dave, and Jade stifled a noise behind her hand.

“Anyway, uh,” Dave picked up again, “Yeah, that’s…why I’m late. Phone died on me in the waiting room. Dirk’s fine, he’s just gonna be on antibiotics for a while, but I can’t talk for long. Gotta get your sick butt back to bed.” He hefted the little tyke closer to his chest and rocked him ever so gently. Accordingly, Dirk fisted the blanket with teeny tiny fingers.

…Huh. Karkat hadn’t known Strider had the emotional capacity to be so, well. Tender. That was the only way he could describe that soft expression peering down at the child. Without those garish sunglasses swallowing half his face, Karkat couldn’t help but notice the exhausted sincerity in Dave’s eyes, and the prominent, nigh-purple bags hanging from them.

“Wanna sleep wi’ you,” Dirk mumbled.

“Course you can sleep in my room,” Dave said. “I think I gotta head off, Jade, I’m really sorry—"

“Don’t be!” Jade waved him off with a smile. “We can catch up next week! Let me know when he’s feeling better, okay?”

“Sure thing,” he said, and his window clicked off to black. As Skype returned to a single screen, Jade’s upturned lips slid into a disquieted frown. Karkat himself was left staring where Dave’s image had blinked into nonexistence, thoughts swirling in his head.

“Poor little mite,” Jade sighed, resting back against her chair. “I had strep when I was a kid too, it sucks major donkey. No wonder that scared Dave so badly!”

“Fuck if you’ll hear me arguing there,” Karkat agreed. He paused for a second to chew his lip, then continued. “But, uh, I didn’t realize Dave had a son—”

“What?” Jade blinked, looking as if he’d sprouted candy corn horns from his head. “No, of course not. That’s his little brother, duh! What on earth made you think that?”

“Well!” Karkat held up his hands defensively. “Everyone and their mother’s heard rumors of how much he gets around, so excuse me for reaching the natural fucking conclusion! And, uh, I guess I assumed his brother was closer to his age? Fuck it, I dunno!”

“Pffft, no!” She snorted. “Dirk’s just a baby, silly. He turned three last year. Didn’t this whole thing start because you got into a Twitter fight with him? His whole page is basically plastered with pictures of Dirk and memes, how’d you not notice that?”

“I-I-shut up Harley, don’t laugh at me! I just didn’t, okay?!”

Karkat was not prepared to admit that okay, _maybe_ he’d only seen that one Tweet of Dave’s before he did a pirouette off the fucking handle the other day. He’d very, very rarely parsed through Dave’s blogs at all, if he were honest. The only time he ever took a real gander was when the asshole first started harassing him a few years ago, and jesus dick that had been eye-searing enough for a life time. But Jade didn’t have to know that.

“Hard not to, you make it so easy!” Jade snickered. “But yeah, that’s just his kid brother. Where the heck did you hear those rumors anyways? I thought they’d died off ages ago.”

Karkat was _also_ unprepared to admit that okay, _maybe_ he’d heard those rumors several years back. But again! Jade didn’t need to know that!

“I—fuck, whatever! Doesn’t matter,” Karkat said with a huff, ignoring Jade’s giggles. “Moving on! Okay, fine, I take back what I said earlier. About him being a lazy douchebag and all. Like—yeah. I get being too busy for us with all that crap going on.”

“Told you it wasn’t like him! I knew he had to have a good reason for being late.”

“Yeah, fuck. That checks out for sure.” With an awkward shrug, he wheeled the chair back a bit to rest beside Grumpelstiltskin. “But, I was wondering, he said he had to leave work early. And, uh. Much as it pains me to admit, Dave looked like shit—not like a _bad_ kind of shit I mean—well, I guess there’s no actual _good_ kind of shit, but. Fuck! Whatever. The _point_ is, he looked tired as all hell. And I’ve already made an ass of myself today as is, so I’ll just ask you straight. Why didn’t Dave’s parents just take Dirk to the hospital?” Reaching over to scratch under Grumpy’s chin, he didn’t catch the way Jade stiffened as the word vomit tumbled from his mouth. “Are they too busy or something to look after their damn kids? Like how fucking self-righteous an asshole do you have to be to—”

“…Karkat, what the fuck!” Jade squeaked suddenly, jerking his attention back to the computer.

“…the hell? Jade, what’s wrong?” Baffled, he pulled himself to the desk.

“How can you talk about them like that?!”

“Talk about _what?_ I was just asking, jesus shit!”

“…wait,” Jade said slowly, realization dawning. “Wait, do you actually not know?”

“Know _what?_ ” Frustrated, he wrung his hands in the air. “It’s a little hard to know what I know or don’t know when you won’t explain what the hell you’re talking about!”

“Ohhhh. Oh my god.” Eyes wide as saucers, Jade brought a hand to her mouth. “I thought Terezi told you.”

“Told me _what_ , Jade?” Karkat pressed, anxiety worming in his gut. “What didn’t she tell me?!”

“…Karkat, Dave’s parents died in a car crash two years ago.”

Silence. Then—

“It’s. It’s why he went offline for six months,” Jade said in a rush. “Back then, he had to deal with the funeral, and take care of Dirk, and—you seriously didn’t know??”

“…What?!” Karkat yelped. “No, what the fuck! Of course I didn’t, how the fuck would I? I—oh my god. And I said. I said. Oh my _god._ ”

He felt. He felt like he was going to throw up. Stomach rising to his throat, Karkat keeled over the desk, choking back on the bile bubbling in his chest. Back then, he’d _celebrated_ Dave’s sudden departure from the Internet. And now. He’d said—shit, he’d _said…_!

“—Karkat! Karkat, are you okay?” Jade’s voice broke through his internal meltdown.

With a shuddering gasp, Karkat forced himself to look back at the screen. In contrast to his rising panic, Jade had mostly calmed down from her initial shock. More than anything, she just looked at him with. Well. Pity.

Her concern only made his insides writhe harder. Fuck.

“Karkat…” Jade said, pressing herself closer to the webcam. “What exactly did you tell Dave?”

_Fuck._

He. He couldn’t give voice to those awful things. Not to Jade. Not to anyone. Not now.

“I. I don’t think I can repeat it,” Karkat said hoarsely.

Brows furrowing, Jade watched him intently. After a few moments, she seemed to come to a decision.

“…Oh boy,” Jade groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I told myself I wouldn’t get involved, but. I need to see what exactly you said to him. Give me a minute to look through his Twitter, okay?”

“I—alright,” Karkat said.

With a small nod, Jade began scrolling through the Twitter thread. Going into the conversation, she seemed calm enough. She even snorted once or twice. Jade’s jovial exasperation, however, soon bled through to concern, and finally horror. Her brows rose higher and higher above her hairline, giving Karkat the addled impression that two furry caterpillars desperate to escape the narrative travesty before them were crawling across her forehead. Every so often, Jade would sneak quick glances toward the camera and, by extension, toward Karkat himself. Her expression grew significantly darker every time they made eye contact.

Nausea roiling in his gut, Karkat fought the hysterical urge to abscond with the cater-brows and hide from Harley’s wrath. Grumpy, sensing the rising anxiety in his tense shoulders, echoed his concerns with a pitiful meow. Even Sir Snapsworth, tucked and tidy in his bowl adjacent Karkat’s laptop, clicked his claws as if to comment.

Pricklestein the cactus remained unmoved by the display on account of it being a cactus.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jade breathed eventually, pulling away from the computer. Now a few paces removed from the monitor, she rested her face in her hands. A few muttered curses drifted in-and-out of the mic’s range, but she otherwise made no other move to address him.

“So, uh...,” Karkat said, tugging uncomfortably at the collar of his vest. “In hindsight, I _may_ or may not have royally fucked up enough to bankrupt the department of empathy, but—”

Jade’s head jerked upwards without forewarning. Nose wrinkled in disgust, she bared her teeth and honest-to-fucking-god _growled_. Karkat flinched, resisting the urge to slam his laptop closed. Skin flushing an angry red, Jade’s whole face was ablaze with righteous fury and abject contempt. For once in his miserable life, Karkat was glad they were separated by twin screens and miles of turnpike.

He swallowed. Hard.

“I—cannot—BELIEVE you!” Jade said, smacking her palm to her forehead. “This is stupid! Beyond stupid! So incredibly fucking _stupid!_ If I was anywhere near your idiotic butt right now, I’d call a taxi and come kick it so hard, you’d need surgery to reaffix your ass cheeks!

“But—”

“SHUT UP! Just shut the FUCK up, Karkat!” she snarled. “No wonder Dave’s been weird all week! I cannot _believe_ you did that.” Closing her eyes with a long, drawn out groan, Jade rubbed her temples.

“I—I swear I didn’t know,” Karkat said, voice hoarse. He licked his lips. “I swear on all that is fucking holy, I didn’t know about Dave’s situation! I’m—I’m an absolute asshole, but I’m not…I’m not!”

“Karkat,” Jade sighed. “That’s not the point. I _know_ you wouldn’t purposefully be such a jerk. But why on earth would you, of _all_ people, think it’d be okay to stir up crap about somebody’s parents? You should know better than anyone that—”

“Don’t talk to _me_ about parental etiquette, Jade!” His grip on the chair arms tightened, knuckles whitening. “I don’t need you or anyone else to lecture me about what I should or shouldn’t say about someone’s family!”

“Oh, excuse me, I think you do!” Jade pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I get it. I get that you had a shitty childhood. But that doesn’t mean you can pull this crap again and again and just feel bad about yourself afterwards, like that makes everything okay. ‘Past Karkat’ is still _you,_ you big fucking idiot.”

Karkat stiffened, opening his mouth to hurl a rebuttal. But. The words died in his throat. He swallowed and tried again.

“I…fuck, I’m sorry, Jade,” he said.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” Jade snapped.

“…I know, I know, just—” Again, Karkat’s voice failed him, and he carded his fingers through his hair. “Shit.”

Jade studied him, eyes narrowing in thought. After a moment, she exhaled and relaxed her shoulders.

“We’re still friends, numbnuts,” Jade said, unknowingly answering the question burning at the forefront of Karakt’s mind. “But…I’m not going to forget about this in a hurry, Karkat. And neither is Dave. You seriously need to work this shit out. On your own. Cause right now, I need to get to bed already. I’ll talk to you later.” With that, Jade exited the Skype call, and went offline before he could even say goodbye.

Shoulders slumping, Karkat bowed his head in shame. Well. Fuck. He buried his face in his hands, fingernails digging into his forehead.

After a few minutes of feeling sorry for himself, Karkat lurched to his feet and headed for the kitchen to brew some coffee. Something told him tonight was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Katt: sorry this took so long, its entirely my fault. i got distracted. im so sorry. possk finished this chapter in one sitting shes the best
> 
> Possk: This is why we don't make assumptions, kids. Class dismissed.


End file.
